Unforgettable
by Writer Unblocked
Summary: AU: Olivia, an unhappily married schoolteacher, gets the shock of a lifetime when a steamy one-night stand from long ago resurfaces as the recently-separated father of an unruly student. All kinds of trouble (of the naughty variety) ensues.
1. All of the Things Edison Doesn't Like

**Hello Scandal fandom! I've been lurking around here since I got caught up/fell in love with this show in August, and after much deliberation I've decided to throw my hat into the Scandal fanfic ring! This story is a whole bunch of firsts for me—my first Scandal fanfic (I've written for Bones and How I Met Your Mother in the past), my serious first multi-chapter fanfic (with actual plot, woo!), and most importantly, my first AU fic! I really hope I do these characters justice and if you think I do, won't you be kind enough to review? **

**Also, let's get this straightened out right away: I am 100% pro-Olitz, and this story will be Olitz for sure. However, I see no reason why Olivia can't be confused with Jake a few times while she's waiting for Fitz to get done being married to somebody else. I mean, is she supposed to just turn into a nun for the next who knows how many years? So many of you out there are such intense Jake-haters. Why can't our Liv have some fun while she waits? Sheesh. I like Fitz and Jake both.**

**Oh yeah, one last thing: this whole chapter is a prologue. The next chapter will have a time jump of a little over two years. I've actually got the first five (yup, count 'em, five!) chapters finished already, but I've been hesitating to post because as I write chapters five and six I keep going back and to tweak little details in chapter one. So there may be a bit of delay before I post the next chapter, but I can't see it being more than a week 'cause, you know, eventually I've just gotta say eff it and post already! **

**Anywho, without further adieu…Enjoy!**

**Prologue: All of the Things Edison Doesn't Like**

_Six o'clock. _Olivia pulled her salmon out of the oven and tested a small piece of one fillet. Delicious. She had used the perfect ratio of lemon pepper to basil, and had left it to bake in the oven for just the right amount of time. Her rice and green beans were already finished, so she decided to leave everything in pots on the stove while she went to change. There was no sense in putting everything out on plates now. She didn't expect her husband home for another twenty or thirty minutes.

_Six-twenty._ Olivia lit the candles at the center of the dining table and admired her handiwork. The table was set; complete with the fresh flowers she'd picked up from the florist on her way home. She served the food onto plates and poured a conservative amount of wine into the two waiting glasses. Her husband didn't drink much—and didn't really like when she did—but she figured they could indulge for one night. It was date night, after all.

_Six-thirty_. She took another look at herself in the full-length mirror in the hallway. Her hair was flawless and she'd picked her husband's favorite shade of red lipstick. She hoped the ample amount of cleavage and leg her tiny black dress left on display would make him drool. It had been months since they'd had a date night. She could count on two hands the number of weeks it had been since they'd had sex. She was looking forward to this night so, so much.

_Six-forty-five._ Traffic. There must be traffic. Olivia paced the dining room in restless circles, glancing every few seconds at her husband's favorite meal growing cold on the plates. She should've left them in pots a little longer. She should've known there would be traffic. It must be the traffic. She ignored the familiar uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. He had promised her that he would be home. He was going to be here, any minute now.

_Six-fifty. _She turned on the news with the intention of catching the traffic report, but it was too late. The local news had gone off and the national news had taken over. She briefly found herself distracted by the dark, handsome anchor filling up her screen. _I wonder if __**he**__ knows what he's doing in bed._ She shook her head and switched the TV off before her mind had time to conjure up a fantasy. She desperately needed to get laid. Her husband would be home soon. The uneasy feeling was getting just a little bit stronger, but she continued to ignore it. Her husband would be home soon.

_Seven o'clock._ The uneasiness had grown to dread. Olivia could no longer ignore it. She picked up the phone to call her husband, part of her still clinging to the hope that maybe, just maybe, he would tell her about the traffic.

"Yes, Olivia?" that was how he always answered the phone nowadays. Before they were married it used to be _"Hey pretty girl," _or _"Good afternoon, gorgeous."_ Now it was just _"Yes?" _and _"What?"_ and _"Make it quick, Liv. I'm working."_

"Hey babe, are you close?" Olivia decided not to ask where he was. She was trying to stay positive, which meant she was going to operate on the assumption that he was on his way home.

"Close?" his voice sounded faraway and confused, and Olivia knew she was on speakerphone. She frowned.

"Yeah, to the house. I have your favorite meal all ready for you. How long 'til you're home?" she asked.

"Oh yeah, about that Liv. Just stick some in the fridge and I'll eat it when I get home."

And there it was. The feeling in the pit of her stomach escalated into full-blown sadness. Anger. Loneliness. Her husband wasn't coming home, _again_. He was effectively standing her up.

"Edison," Olivia by some miracle managed to keep her voice level, even though her emotions had just exploded inside of her, "You told me you would be home for dinner. I've been sitting here waiting for you for thirty minutes."

"Sorry, Liv," Edison said, but his tone didn't hold the slightest hint of remorse, "You can go ahead and eat without me. I got caught up at work and I'm going to be here for awhile."

"I set the table, I bought flowers, and candles," Olivia continued as if she hadn't heard him, pacing the living room furiously, "I did my hair, I did my makeup, I got all dressed up for you-"

"I've gotta get things straightened out for London, Olivia. I-"

"I _asked _you _this morning_ if you would be home!" Olivia yelled, infuriated now. That was all that was ever important to him, his stupid job. "I asked you and you _promised_, Edison! I've barely seen you in weeks! I just wanted to have a nice night together, I wasn't even going to make you take me anywhere, I just wanted to-"

"Olivia, you're yelling and I'm working," Edison interrupted. Olivia could that tell he was unfazed by her anger, which pissed her off even more, "Can we talk about this when I'm not in the middle of something? I should be home around ten. Just put the food in the fridge and I'll warm it up when I get there."

"_Ten o'clock? _If you weren't going to be home for dinner you could have at least _called_ me, Edison, so I didn't spend all fucking afternoon running around getting ready for our date when I could have been relaxing after work-"

"Cursing is unbecoming of you, Olivia. I'm going to hang up now-"

"_Fuck you, Edison!_" Olivia hung up her phone and resisted the urge to throw it, instead opting to stomp her feet on the floor and slam her fist into the doorframe. It was childish, but therapeutic.

She took deep breaths and stood in the middle of her living room for a few moments, willing herself to calm down. She was used to this, after all—well, not necessarily the getting stood up part, but Edison being absent in their marriage? Yep, she was used to that. Edison was the Chief Operations Officer of his father's foodservice company, Davis Corporation. Davis Corp was the foodservice provider of school cafeterias, sports stadiums, prisons, and other miscellaneous venues in forty-seven states and seventeen countries. Edison's position required him to make frequent site visits that would last weeks at a time, and to spend long hours in the office when he wasn't abroad. He had just returned from a three-week trip to London earlier that week, and Olivia had hardly seen him. That was why she'd planned their little date night. She wanted to see him for more than three minutes at a time while one of them was busily on their way out the door. She wanted to talk to him, to hear about his trip and tell him about her students. She'd planned a massage with his favorite scented oils for after dinner. And, damn it, she was a young, healthy twenty-six year old woman. She wanted to get _laid_. Her vibrator had seen far, _far_ too much use these last few months.

And he didn't even have the decency to call when he knew he wasn't going to show up.

Olivia allowed a couple of tears to fall as she made her way to the dining room. She blew out the candles and picked up Edison's plate, bringing it to the kitchen and dumping it in the trash. She took the extra rice and green beans sitting in pots on the stove and dumped those out as well. On her way back through the dining room, she picked up her own plate and the bottle of wine and went to settle herself in front of the television, taking frequent, copious sips of wine straight from the bottle.

Leave his food in the fridge so he could heat it up when he got home? _Think again, Edison_.

Olivia finished her dinner and continued to work on her bottle of wine, not really paying much attention to whatever was on TV. She was restless. She was quite used to being alone, but the last year or so of her eighteen-month marriage had been the loneliest of her life. She needed a distraction. She needed to get out of the house. And she knew just who to call.

"Hello?" the redhead answered the phone sounding just as cheerful as ever.

"Abby I need a drink."

"What? I thought you were cooking dinner for Edison. That was tonight, wasn't it? You said it was tonight."

"I need a drink, Abby," Olivia repeated, not really in the mood to discuss how her husband was absent on a Friday night, _again_, "I just…I need to get out of the house."

Luckily, Abby had enough sense to know when Olivia didn't want to talk about it.

"Well, well, well," Olivia could practically see the devious smirk that was bound to be making its way across Abby's lips, "You've come to the right place, Liv. Whiskey Park sound good to you? Give me twenty minutes to change and I can be there in half an hour."

* * *

It wasn't until she was feeling the effects of her third margarita that Olivia was finally willing to talk about Edison.

"He stood me up, Abby!" she exclaimed, running her finger around the edge of her glass and bringing it to her lips, licking off the sugar, "My own husband! He stood me up! And I guess I shouldn't be surprised because he's never home anymore but I just…I don't know. I thought when I told him about dinner this morning he sounded like he was looking forward to it but I guess I was wrong."

"I can't believe he did that! I mean, I can tell you've been missing him lately but I thought it was just during the business trips or whatever. I had no idea that you guys hardly spend any time together while he's here. I'm sorry, Liv," Abby sighed, "The man's a moron. He clearly doesn't know what he has."

Olivia smiled self-deprecatingly.

"I don't know, Abby. Maybe I'm just not funny enough or smart enough or…or pretty enough," she took a huge gulp of her drink and squeezed her eyes shut. It was strong and she was definitely feeling a medium-sized buzz, which was probably why she was allowing words she had only ever thought to herself before come flowing freely out of her mouth, "Maybe I'm just not good enough to hold his attention. Maybe I should start ironing his shirts all the time and making sure all his meals are cooked just like he—"

"No! Olivia, listen to me," Abby interrupted, "Edison somehow holds onto ridiculous ideas of marriage that pretty much died back in 1955. It is not your _job_ to sit at home barefoot and pregnant and cooking him meals. This is the 21st century! You have a career of your own that you love and you are good at and I, for one, am not about to sit around and let you start wiping Edison's butt every time he goes to the bathroom. It's ridiculous. And you know damn well that you _are_ smart and funny and pretty and _amazing_, and he's the one who doesn't deserve you, not the other way around."

"I guess," Olivia mumbled, swirling her finger around the edge of her glass and licking off the sugar once more. Never in a million years had she thought marriage would be so…_lonely._ She and Edison seemed so good on paper. They met in college and he was nice to her and took her to fancy restaurants and bought her expensive things for birthdays and Christmases. He would cuddle with her when it was cold outside and stay in to watch movies with her when she had cramps. And sure, maybe she'd never felt any deep, all-encompassing connection to him, but he said that he loved her and she appreciated him for it. She loved him for it. Her mother was dead and her father hadn't really been around for the latter half of her childhood, but from what she could remember of her parents' relationship it was reasonable to assume that the deep, all-encompassing, passionate stuff didn't really exist, anyway.

She just never thought that she would, as a married woman, spend more nights sleeping in an empty bed than not. She never thought that she and her husband could coexist in the same home for days and not say more than 'good morning,' and 'goodnight,' to each other. She couldn't remember the last time either one of them had said 'I love you.' She never thought that her husband would fail to show up on a night that mattered so, so much to her.

"You know he wants to start trying soon?" Olivia blurted out after a moment of silently stewing in her thoughts. Abby glanced up from the text message she was typing.

"What like,trying, as in, _trying_?" she asked, "To get pregnant?"

"Yup," Olivia laughed humorlessly, "I don't know how or when he thinks it's going to happen, since it's now December 7th and we haven't had sex since the beginning of October-"

"You haven't had sex since the _beginning of October_?" Abby interrupted incredulously, "What? How do you function, Liv? I _need_ to have a piece of David at _least_ five or six times a week or—"

"I got it, Abby," Olivia made a face. David was Abby's current flavor of the month, and Olivia was sure she didn't need to hear any of the details, "I mean, Edison's been gone for a lot of that time. He just got back from three weeks in London and before that he was in Los Angeles for a while, but even when he's here he's just at work all the time. And he comes home so late and I always have to get up early so I'm in bed by the time he gets home and…I don't know, it just never happens. You know I spent like a hundred dollars on the bra and panties I'm wearing right now? I was _so sure_ it was finally going to happen."

Abby clicked her teeth sympathetically as Olivia felt disappointment course through her veins once more. She downed the rest of her margarita and set the glass back down on the table. Abby raised her eyebrows.

"What? Edison doesn't like it when I drink…the wives of important C.O.O.s are too ladylike to get drunk, or some nonsense like that. But tonight, _fuck him_," Olivia glanced around the bar with the intention of flagging down the bartender, "I'm going to drink, I'm going to stay out late, I'm going to do all of the things he doesn't like…we should go dancing! This place doesn't have a dance floor…"

"Oh my gosh, _great_ idea, because I was just about to ask you," Abby hit send on another text message and gave Olivia her undivided attention, "Quinn texted me a little while ago and said she, David, and Harrison are going to Sway or Gypsy or…I can't remember, one of those lounges in the Theater District. I told her I was with you and she asked if we wanted to join? I didn't respond yet, mostly because I thought you'd say no, but if you really are in the mood for dancing then we can join them."

"Yes!" Olivia exclaimed. Then she frowned, "But this time you can't run off with a hot motorcycle guy all night and leave me to fend for myself with some creep named _Ivan_."

"Liv, that was ages ago! Jeez, we need to get you out more. Just because you're married doesn't mean you can't have a little fun," Abby giggled, "And besides, I said I was sorry about that. I had no idea he was being a Stage 5 clinger."

"Yeah whatever," Olivia rolled her eyes as she reached for her purse, "Just don't let it happen again."

* * *

It had been at least six or seven months since the last time Olivia had set foot in a nightclub. In her opinion, they were too hot, loud, and sweaty, and, as a married woman for the last year and a half and someone in a committed relationship for the four years that came before that, she normally wasn't much for dancing. It was fun while she was with her friends, but after the first few songs they would inevitably pair off with someone of the opposite sex, leaving Olivia to fend for herself as a married woman amongst a sea of drunk, handsy men. She preferred to just hang out with her friends at a nice, quiet bar with a glass of wine.

Normally.

"Liv! Abby! You made it!" Quinn exclaimed, rushing to give them a hug as Abby and Olivia finally located her standing with Harrison and David at the bar, nursing what looked like a long island iced tea, "I was getting worried you wouldn't find a parking spot—nice dress, Liv! Spin!"

Olivia giggled—the effects of her several margaritas had yet to fade away completely—and obliged, turning 360 degrees so Quinn could get a look at the back of her dress. It was the same short, revealing black number that she had intended to wear for Edison earlier that night. Luckily, it was appropriate for both a sexy night in with her husband and a night out with her friends. She was wearing black heels that she hadn't exactly picked out with clubbing in mind, but they worked.

"Oooh la la," Quinn said admiringly as Harrison stepped forward to give Olivia a hug and Abby kissed David soundly on the lips.

"Hey Liv, you look hot," he greeted, giving her a peck on the cheek. The two of them had been best friends since high school and, even though they would occasionally play-flirt with each other, their relationship was strictly platonic. Harrison was practically her brother. "I can't believe Edison let you out of the house in that dress. If you were my wife I'd have you on lock. Can't have other dudes trying to get their paws all over you."

Olivia grimaced at the mention of Edison and closed her eyes, willing herself to just enjoy the warm margarita buzz she was feeling and not start thinking about Edison again. When she opened her eyes a few seconds later, it was to see Abby nudge Harrison and give him a 'not tonight,' look. Olivia smiled sarcastically.

"Oh Harrison, in order for Edison to keep his wife on lock he'd have to come home and see her for more than just five minutes every now and then," she said, "He'd have to not blow her off after she spent all afternoon getting ready for their date. Until then, his wife is free to wear whatever she wants, wherever she wants."

"Damn, sorry Liv. I didn't know it was like that," Harrison apologized, "You know I'm here for you whenever you need me. We can do dumb girl shit—go shopping, get manicures, hate on men, you know me, Liv."

"Thanks, Harrison," Olivia said, laughing at the idea of her friend in a nail salon. It would never happen, but she got the point.

"You're welcome. Now come on," Harrison rubbed his hands together and turned to face the bartender, "First drink is on Harrison. What'll it be, ladies?"

"I'll have what Quinn's having," Abby said, nodding to the long island iced tea in Quinn's hand.

"And I'll have—"

"_Not_ wine, Liv," Quinn interrupted, "I will not let you stand here in the middle of the club and order red wine."

Olivia laughed again.

"I was _going_ to say I'll have a Jack and Coke."

"Good. One long island, one Jack and Coke it is! Now grab your drinks and let's dance, ladies!"

* * *

Fitzgerald Grant couldn't keep his eyes off of the woman in the little black dress. He wasn't sure when she'd come in, but he had been lingering by the bar knocking back scotch and sodas for about an hour before he noticed her for the first time. She was approaching the bar with a tall redhead, and he couldn't help but let his eyes run over her tight, curvy physique. She was all soft chocolate skin, long shiny hair that fell past her shoulders in loose waves, and a short, black dress that wrapped around her body like a second skin. The short hemline of the dress combined with the strappy black heels on her feet left miles of leg on display, and the low cut neckline made her ample cleavage hard to miss as well. As he gazed at her from the other side of the bar, Fitz felt something hot stir low in his belly.

She was beautiful.

He was just trying to figure out if offering to buy her a drink would also seem like a good idea when he was completely sober when a brunette spotted both her and the redhead and waved them over. Hugs were exchanged—Fitz felt a sudden, irrational twinge of jealousy when the suave black man in the light purple button down wrapped his hands around her tiny waist and kissed her cheek, but after watching them interact for awhile longer he decided that they seemed to just be friends. The other man in the group almost immediately put his tongue down the redhead's throat, so he definitely wasn't a threat.

Fitz watched as someone said something that made her giggle, and his heart nearly stopped beating in his chest at the sight of her full lips breaking out into a smile. The bartender handed her a drink, and she headed off to the dance floor with her friends. Fitz followed her with her eyes until he lost sight of her, her perfect little body becoming a blur in the crowd.

Damn.

Fitz tried to curb the disappointment he felt and told himself that flirting with this girl was a very, very bad idea anyway. He turned back to the people he was with and tried to pay attention to the conversation, but he was distracted.

"Fitz, another scotch?" Stephen asked, finally pulling him out of his thoughts. Fitz and Stephen had been buddies for years. Fitz normally hated nightclubs—he was way too old for this shit—but Stephen was a few years younger than him, single and unattached, and somehow every couple of months he managed to talk Fitz into a night of insanity. Or, at least, it was insanity on Stephen's part. Fitz usually preferred to hang out by the bar and drink while Stephen got his grind on with some bimbo.

"Huh? Oh—yeah, sure," Fitz quickly downed the rest of the drink in his hand and set it down on the counter.

"What'sa matter with you? You haven't said anything in like fifteen minutes," Stephen observed, handing him the scotch and keeping a whiskey sour for himself.

"Nothing, Stephen, you know I hate this shit," Fitz said, mentally willing thoughts of the pretty mystery woman to leave his mind. It was useless, though, because no sooner had the words come out of his mouth than the mystery woman reappeared, emerging from the crowd with purple button-down in tow. Fitz watched as she set her empty cup down on the other side of the bar and signaled for the bartender to make her another. Stephen followed his gaze.

"Oh!" he said knowingly, "It all makes sense now. Drooling after a pretty girl, are you Fitzy boy?"

"Fitz? Drooling after a girl?" Fitz didn't have time to deny it before Daniel Douglas, a good and very drunk friend of theirs, joined them at the bar, "Come on, Fitz. When are you going to learn to play for _my_ team? I would think you would learn your lesson after getting shackled with that frigid shrew wife of yours."

"Hey," Fitz said defensively, taking his eyes off of the pretty girl long enough to give Daniel a death stare. Not that Daniel was wrong—his wife was most certainly a frigid shrew—but Fitz was the only one allowed to call her that.

"Sorry, man, sorry," Daniel apologized, not sounding sorry at all, before he turned his attention to the bartender. Stephen, meanwhile, was staring predatorily at the mystery woman.

"She _is_ beautiful. Mind if I approach, Fitz?"

"Don't!" Fitz said so forcefully that he surprised even himself. He knew what that expression on Stephen's face meant, and that woman was way too beautiful to become another one of Stephen's one-night stands.

"What? It's not like you can—"

"Just leave her alone, Stephen," Fitz interrupted as the woman accepted a drink from the bartender and her friend led her back to the dance floor, "I'm sure she's here to have a good time, not get taken advantage of by creeps like you."

"Fine. She's with someone anyway," Stephen smirked and looked around, zeroing in on a group of blondes a couple feet away, "I think I'll just introduce myself to _them_…"

Stephen walked away and Fitz glanced toward where his mystery woman had been. To his delight, she and her friend stayed close to the edge of the dance floor this time, and Fitz was able to keep her within his sight.

His delight was short-lived, however, and jealousy returned even stronger than before when her friend moved behind her and murmured something in her ear. She laughed and pulled on his hands until they settled at her waist, then began winding her hips back against him. Fitz actually made a growling sound before taking a considerably large gulp of his drink. He had thought that the man was just her friend, and the idea of him being more than that upset Fitz way more than it should have. He was married with children, after all, and he'd never even spoken to this woman before. He took another gulp of his scotch and relished the burn that spread down his throat and into his stomach.

He continued to watch the girl dance, his pants tightening a little as she continued her sensual winding against her friend. The part of him that was fueled by alcohol wanted to go over and punch the man in the face, but the rest of him figured that that was a bad idea. Then, just when Fitz thought he couldn't watch her dance with another man any longer, they stopped.

They subtly gestured to a cute Latina girl nearby, and Fitz's mystery woman gave her friend a little nudge with a smile. Fitz's heart soared as the friend approached the Latina girl, and they began to dance.

So he wasn't her boyfriend, after all.

The mystery woman watched her friend for a moment, then resumed dancing by herself at the edge of the crowd, twisting and winding her hips in time with the beat. Her eyes had fallen shut and there was a small smile on her face, as if she was thoroughly enjoying herself. Fitz had never seen anything more gorgeous in his life.

_Do not go over there, do not go over there, _he repeated over and over again in his head. Then he glanced to his left and saw that Stephen, too, had noticed that the mystery woman was dancing by herself. And the predatory smile was back on his face.

A knot formed in Fitz's stomach. He knew he wouldn't be able to handle seeing Stephen's hands all over that girl. Stephen had to be stopped. Shooting back the rest of his drink in one swallow, Fitz calmly set his glass down on the bar and started towards her.

He wasn't really considering the consequences of his actions. All he knew was that he had to stake his claim on her before Stephen did.

* * *

Olivia watched from afar as Harrison approached the girl she'd seen him eyeing all night and smiled happily when they began dancing together. Not that there was any doubt that she would say yes. Harrison was as smooth as they came, and in the twelve years that she'd known him Olivia had seen him charm the panties off of plenty of girls. He was being nice to her by staying with her once Abby paired off with David and Quinn found some hottie to dance with, but even in her mostly drunken state Olivia could tell that he really wanted to see some action of his own that night. And so she insisted that he go talk to that girl. She wasn't going to be a cockblock.

Harrison and the girl disappeared into the crowd and, satisfied, Olivia resumed dancing on her own. She loved dancing, she loved this song, and she was just drunk enough to not mind that she was flying solo—none of her friends were in sight.

She closed her eyes and enjoyed the warmth of the alcohol humming through her veins, allowing her hips to wind and spin to the music on their own accord. It had been so long since she'd done anything like this. She felt good, she knew she looked good, and she just wanted to keep on dancing and feeling this way for the rest of her life. She'd silenced her phone long ago—no thoughts of Edison were going to pop up and ruin her good mood. If it couldn't be date night, then tonight was going to be _her_ night.

Suddenly, without warning, a pair of large, firm hands spanned her hips. They were too big to be Harrison's—and he would never grab her so assertively like that. Olivia's eyes flew open as she felt a pair of lips near her ear.

"Dance with me, beautiful?" the words were murmured hotly against the shell of her ear, causing an unexpected, involuntary shiver to run through Olivia's body. She spun around instinctively, ready to tell the man behind her that—much as she might like to have a nice, strong man hold her close right about now—she only danced with her husband. But she found herself looking at the warmest pair of blue eyes she'd ever seen, and the words died on her lips.

He was gorgeous. Tall and muscular with dark, wavy hair and perfect lips that Olivia felt the deep, primal urge to run her tongue over. He was casually dressed and, close as he was, he smelled of scotch and musk and _man_. Something about him just oozed pure sex, and Olivia instantly felt her core melting. His eyes were the worst. They were the sharpest, most piercing color of blue she'd ever seen, and she somehow felt that they could see right through her. Except, they seemed upset and suddenly Olivia realized that he was withdrawing his hands.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, "I just thought—"

"Don't," Olivia interrupted, placing her hands over his to keep them on her hips. His blue eyes darkened lustfully and she thought it was the most erotic thing she had ever seen. A smile formed on her lips as _Vogue_ by Madonna began blaring though the speakers, "I love this song."

And she turned her back to him.

* * *

He was dancing with her. Fitz couldn't believe it.

Half of him was shocked that he actually had the balls to approach her, and the other half of him was shocked that she hadn't rejected him. When she whirled around to face him he could see from her icy expression that she was about to kick him to the curb. But then, just as he was about to apologize, she…didn't. Her expression melted and she showed him the biggest, softest chocolate brown eyes he had ever seen before her pretty little lips widened into a smile that he couldn't help but think of kissing off. She placed her hands over his and pulled them back around her waist.

"I love this song."

She led him deep into the crowd until he could no longer see Stephen or the bar, and then, they were dancing. Song after song, the sight of her body moving in front of him was the single most erotic thing he had ever seen. During the third song he used his hands on her hips to manipulate her movements until there was no more space between them—her body sliding and undulating sensually against his. She smelled amazing, and Fitz couldn't help the distinctive tightening in his pants. She didn't seem to care—in fact, by the fifth song he was positive that she was deliberately grinding her ass against his crotch. The little minx.

Fitz lost track of how long they were dancing. They continued on like that, creating the sweetest friction with each other's bodies, for what felt like hours. Then his beautiful vixen placed her hands over his again. This time she seemed to be pressing them upward.

Taking the hint, Fitz slid his hands up her curves, over her tiny waist, and stopped them just below her breasts. He had never in his life wanted so badly to touch a woman's breasts as he wanted to this one in his arms, but something held him back. He wasn't sure if he truly had permission. But then she tossed a smoldering look over her shoulder at him and beckoned him with her finger to lean in closer.

He obliged, powerless to refuse her, and leaned his head forward until his ear was in front of her red tinted lips. They parted, and he felt her warm breath whisper across his ear as she spoke.

"Come on, baby, will you touch me ple—_ah_!" a breathy gasp escaped her lips and her back arched against him as he gave her exactly what she wanted, sliding his palms upwards until he was cupping and kneading her soft breasts through the material of her dress.

"You like that, beautiful?" Fitz growled, his lips in her ear now. He couldn't help but dart his tongue out from between his lips and nibble on the sensitive skin there. He smirked as her dancing faltered and her body temporarily buckled against his, "You like this, don't you?"

"Yesssss…" he heard her purr as he placed hot, open-mouthed kisses down the column of her neck. She regained her rhythm and ground her backside against his now full-blown erection. Fitz groaned and pushed into her, unable to help himself.

"What else do you want?" he asked, tearing one hand away from her pliant breasts and sliding it down, down her body, past where it had been resting on her hips earlier and letting it linger along the short hemline of her dress. He smiled against the skin of her neck as her thighs parted in invitation. The answer was obvious, but he needed to hear it.

"Tell me what else you want, pretty girl," he slid his mouth back up to her ear again and licked it. Her head fell back against his chest as she ground her hips against him once more.

"I want—I want…" she was speechless, or he couldn't hear her over the music, or maybe both.

Fitz glanced around and saw a door against the back wall of the dance floor, off to the side and out of the way where hardly anyone would notice it. Without thinking, he grabbed her hand and dragged her over to it. It was unlocked, and Fitz opened it to find a dark storage area. He stuck his head in and looked around—there were a couple of boxes, some chairs, and a small table—before he pulled his mystery woman inside behind him and, with a swish of his fingers, locked the door.

* * *

Olivia didn't know what was wrong with her.

She had never done anything like this before, _ever_. She was the perfect wife. She waited dutifully at home for her husband to return from his business trips. She never stayed out too late. She never drank too much. In the five-and-a-half years since she'd been with Edison, she'd never accepted an invitation to dance from a stranger. And she'd _certainly_ never dirty danced with anyone. She'd probably never been so promiscuous before in her entire life.

But for some reason she found, as she led her newfound partner deeper onto the dance floor, that she didn't give a fuck about _any_ of that.

Maybe it was because of the alcohol in her system. Maybe it was because she was so _sick_ of Edison disappointing her over and over again. Maybe it was because of the man with the heart stopping blue eyes dancing behind her, making her feel all sorts of things that she had never felt before.

He was the most beautiful man she had ever seen.

She made a feeble attempt to keep space between them, but that didn't last long before he had her flush against him. His hands gripped her hips as she slid her body against his, and she could feel his powerful erection pressing against her backside. There were no warning bells in her mind. Edison was long forgotten.

She danced with him for what felt like hours, enjoying the sweet friction their bodies created. He was so strong and hard behind her. He smelled like pure man. Everything about this stranger was a complete turn on.

Olivia could feel liquid oozing between her thighs, and her breasts were tight and heavy. She ignored it for a while, but her breasts began to feel exceptionally sore and achy, like no one had paid them any attention in weeks—because no one had. Rubbing her body against this stranger was doing nothing to ease the sexual tension that had been building inside her for months. Olivia closed her eyes and thought about how nice it would feel if he just slid his hands a couple of inches higher.

She placed her hands over his and pushed upward, not so subtly trying to encourage him to do what she wanted.

The next few moments were a hazy blur of absolute _**want**_. She couldn't control the words, phrases, and moans that were coming out of her mouth as he did exactly what she wanted, or how _good_ it felt to just have him squeeze her sensitive breasts. He was licking and kissing her neck, and she actually had a moment where her knees just would not support her and she buckled back into him. She had never felt like this before. Never, not even when she had first begun to date Edison, had he so thoroughly turned her on. The blue-eyed man behind her was touching and kissing her, and she could hear herself panting and moaning as she vaguely heard him ask her what she wanted.

"I want—I want…" Olivia thought hazily to herself that she wanted _whatever_ this man was willing to give her, but she could not furnish a coherent sentence. His fingers were playing on her thighs, and she wished he would slip them underneath the hem of her dress.

Suddenly, he grabbed her by the hand, and before she knew what was even happening she found herself inside a small, dark room—a closet, maybe?—that had magically appeared off to the side of the dance floor. She heard him lock the door behind them, and all she could think was that this man—this absolutely beautiful man—was finally going to give her what she needed.

* * *

No sooner was she inside the little dark room than Olivia found herself pressed against a wall, her legs instinctively wrapped around her stranger's hips as his erection settled between them. He lowered his face to hers and stopped when their mouths were just centimeters apart. Olivia looked at him through wide brown eyes to find that he was staring at her intently, his lusty blue eyes taking in every detail of her face.

"You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen," he murmured, before capturing her lips with his.

Olivia moaned and let her eyes flutter shut as he immediately ran his tongue along her lips. She opened her mouth instinctively and his tongue sought hers, coaxing it gently out of her mouth and into his. _God_, he tasted delicious, like scotch and something else—something dark and inherently male. Olivia wrapped her arms around him and ran her fingernails along the base of his neck as she let everything go, kissing him with every ounce of passion she possessed and enjoying the warm, tight sensations pooling in her lower belly. He was getting her so wound up. It had been _such_ a long time since she'd felt release, and now she thought she needed it more than she needed her next breath.

Without pausing the kiss he hiked her dress further up her waist, exposing the soft skin of her thighs and her delicate red lace panties. He slid one hand back up her side and squeezed her breasts again. Olivia moaned into his mouth—she couldn't remember her breasts ever being this sensitive before—and, distracted, she didn't even realize that he was using his other hand to unzip his pants until he slid them over his hips and pressed his stiff, boxer-clad erection right into her core. Instinctively, Olivia crossed her ankles behind his backside and used the leverage to grind herself down onto him. He groaned and tore his lips away from hers; pressing wet kisses down her neck and across her collarbone.

"Keep dancing," he whispered then, pausing to nibble at the particularly sensitive flesh where Olivia's neck met her shoulder.

"What?" Olivia was on such a high she could hardly comprehend words.

"Keep dancing," he repeated, "You can hear the music. Keep moving your hips. Your body moving like that is the sexiest thing I've ever—_ahh_," he groaned as Olivia obliged, rotating her hips in tune to the music that was still pulsing through the walls, "_Yes_, baby, just like that."

Olivia whimpered at the feeling of her center grinding on his erection with only her panties and his boxers separating them. He circled his hips up every time she ground hers down, and they found a hot, steady rhythm that had Olivia's eyes fluttering shut and her toes flexing in her high heels. He recaptured her lips and they swallowed the uncontrollable sounds coming from each other's throats, their tongues matching the rhythm they'd created down below. Olivia tightened her arms around his neck, tunneling her fingers in his hair and holding on for dear life as her body moved with his. This was the most exquisite pleasure she had ever experienced.

Suddenly he shifted her in his arms and changed his rhythm, thrusting his erection hard against her hot, wet core. Olivia ripped her mouth from his and let out a throaty moan as he did it again and again, and she felt the lips of her pussy tighten and quiver every time.

"_God_, I like that. Please don't stop, baby, please don't—"

"You gonna come for me, pretty girl?"

"_Yes_," Olivia cried breathlessly as he pushed his cock against her harder and faster. A smoldering burn spread from the pit of her stomach throughout her entire body, intensifying at the apex of her thighs where he was hitting and rubbing her _just_ right. She buried her head somewhere in his neck and screamed as her orgasm hit her, his lips at her ear murmuring words she couldn't understand as she erupted against him.

He slowed his pace but didn't stop moving, continuing to rock his hips into her as she rode out the strongest orgasm of her life.

"God, you are beautiful," he said when she finally raised her head to look at him, still feeling little tremors throughout her body. She hardly noticed that he pushed his boxers down his hips until his fingers slipped underneath the waistband of her panties and gripped hard, tearing them off as easily as if they had been made of paper. And then he was inside her.

She gasped and tried to let her head fall forward again but he caught her chin in his fingers and forced her to look at him. He was breathing hard, holding himself still inside her until he was sure her body had adjusted to the size of him, his blue eyes focused on her face.

"Say Fitz this time," he commanded.

"What?"

"I want to hear you scream my name when you come. It's Fitz. Say Fitz."

"What makes you think I'm going to come again?" Olivia had never in her life had multiple orgasms. With Edison, she was lucky if she got one orgasm. And she had never had an orgasm as intense as the one that had just wracked her body.

Fitz smirked.

"This."

Olivia screamed again as he gathered her legs in his arms and took off, practically pinning her knees to the wall as he pistoned his cock deep into her pussy as fast as he could. Olivia could do nothing but arch her back and dig her fingernails into the side of his neck as he pounded her over and over again. Her legs were shaking and her core was tightening and she knew he was right—she was going to come again, and soon—as she felt hot liquid dripping out of her around his hard dick. Fitz let his head drop to her shoulder and began placing hard kisses on her skin, marking her everywhere. The noises coming from his throat were the most erotic sounds she'd ever heard.

"Tell me your name, gorgeous," he demanded suddenly.

"Olivia," Olivia, who never gave out her name to anyone, obeyed without a second thought.

"Olivia," he repeated, letting his hands drift down between them. He found her clit and swirled it, circled it expertly with his thumb, propelling a loud cry from her mouth, "You are going to come again, Olivia. Right now. Come for me right now."

And she did, his name tripping off her lips over and over again as her whole body tightened, stiffened, and then exploded uncontrollably. Her pussy throbbed, her legs shook, her fingers trembled, her stomach quivered as she was hit by wave after wave of incredible sensations, unable to do anything but submit to them. If her first orgasm was amazing, then this one was absolutely mind-blowing. She heard a deep guttural sound as Fitz lost his rhythm, pumping erratically into her clenching core as his own orgasm overtook him. She felt his dick pulsing and his hot seed spilling inside her as she thought foggily to herself that this was the best sex she'd ever had in her life.

She was still trembling minutes later when he slipped out of her and gingerly set her down. She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes, willing her breathing to return to normal as she listened to the sound of Fitz fixing his clothing and zipping his pants.

Her thighs were sticky and she felt his cum oozing out of her. It was a strange sensation, one that she'd only experienced a few times years ago, back when Edison still wanted her badly enough to be careless about birth control. Edison.

"Oh my God," her eyes flew open at the thought of her husband, who was most likely furiously trying to figure out where she was right now. She had effectively forgotten about him as soon as she started dancing with Fitz. She hadn't felt a single fiber of hesitance or guilt as she cheated on him.

Fitz looked at her, casting those compelling blue eyes down her thoroughly satisfied figure before settling on her face. He frowned at her, and she could see in his eyes that reality was starting to creep back in for him, too.

"I know," he said, as if he understood exactly how she felt, "But wasn't that amazing?"

He reached for her then, and Olivia watched in surprise as he began straightening her dress and combing his fingers through her hair. She sighed and allowed him to take care of her for a moment before she noticed the red smudges of lipstick all over his face and smoothed her thumb over them, attempting to wipe them off. He smiled at her and somehow—incredibly—her stomach still fluttered.

"Lipstick," she told him softly, letting her hand rest on his cheek for a moment before pulling away.

"I think we both need a trip to the bathroom after this," he said with a chuckle.

"I don't usually do things like this," she said suddenly. "My friends…they can't know."

"Why?" he eyed her curiously, "Is purple button-down your boyfriend?"

"Who?" Olivia asked, momentarily confused before she realized he must be talking about Harrison, "Oh, Harrison?" she laughed, "No, no, he's not my boyfriend…"

"Good," Fitz said possessively, and at Olivia's expression he added, "I was watching you dance with him, before I got up the nerve to approach you."

"You were watching me?"

"Of course. I told you you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. I meant it," he cupped her cheek and kissed her once, twice, tenderly, and Olivia again felt her stomach flutter.

"I have to go," she whispered.

"I know," he kissed her one more time before he let go of her and stepped back. Olivia stared at him for a long moment, trying to figure out what it was that drew her to him, what it was that made her not want to leave him. Then Edison's face appeared in her mind and, drawing in a deep, shaky breath, she turned her back on Fitz and left the room.

**A/N: Uh oh! Olivia and Fitz were naughty! That one was a doozy, no? Hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you think!**


	2. Figment of Her Imagination

**Thank you all so, so much for all of your reviews, follows, and favorites to this story so far! You guys are amazing! And I can tell by some of your responses that we really, really are short on Jake fans over here. That's okay by me. I was mostly just putting it out there that I don't really mind having Jake around on the show, but I don't actually know if I'm going to include Jake in this story or not. If I do, he won't make his appearance until way, way down the line and he probably won't play that big of a role, so never fear Jake-haters!**

**Someone asked me if Olivia's unruly student (coming up in this chapter, woohoo) is actually her child with Fitz. Um, no. To clarify, Fitz and Mellie have Gerry, Karen, and Teddy in this story. Karen and Gerry are older than Teddy, just like in the real Scandal world. Olivia and Edison don't have any kids, because ew. **

**Also, friendly reminder, we've got a time jump of two years, one month for this chapter. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 1: A Figment of Her Imagination**

_Solid hips pinned her slender body to the mattress. Nimble fingers caught her wrists and held them firmly at either side of her head. Soft lips kissed her fiercely and a warm, wet tongue slid into her mouth and rubbed against hers once, twice, before withdrawing. Teeth nibbled on her bottom lip. Olivia let her legs fall open willingly and instantly felt his erection sink into her hot, dripping core._

_Their sex was wild, frantic. His grip tight on her wrists, her back arched, her hips rotating to meet the rise and fall of his thrusts. Her walls spasmed around his cock as deep pulses originated between her thighs and flowed throughout her body. Her orgasm was so close. Her body yearned for it more than anything._

_He tongue-kissed the side of her neck, breathing erratically in her ear._

"_You like it when I fuck you like this, don't you beautiful? Come for me, Olivia…Come for me…"_

_Suddenly his fiery blue eyes met hers and she was splintering, coming apart, screaming and trembling against him as he held her down to the mattress, pummeling into her wildly, with no intention of stopping until—_

Olivia awoke with a start to the sound of her alarm blaring. She groaned and punched the snooze button. The throbbing between her thighs was so intense she had to fight the urge to scream.

She was hot all over, her skin flushed, breathing hard. She pushed her comforter to the side and tossed uncomfortably in bed for a moment before lying still, willing herself to take deep breaths and relax. She let her fingers wander beneath the waistband of her pajama bottoms and briefly considered retrieving her vibrator from the drawer of her nightstand.

She didn't have enough time for that, instead opting to massage her clit in slow, soothing circles. She closed her eyes and saw his blue ones gazing at her from afar. She imagined that it was his hand on her instead of her own, and it wasn't very long at all before she climaxed, her wetness coating her fingers.

As always, her orgasm wasn't nearly as strong or as satisfying as the ones _he_ had once given her. When she came down from her high Olivia flipped onto her stomach and let out a groan of frustration that was muffled by her pillow.

She was used to this. _He_—Fitz, or whatever his name really was—had been the star of her sexual fantasies ever since their semi-drunken one-night stand in a dark nightclub closet. At first she had thought that her preoccupation with him would fade with time, but she was wrong. Over two years later, he was still who she dreamed of at night; who she fantasized about when she was with her husband; who she ached to feel touching her when she was lonely and aroused. Their encounter had been quick but mind-blowing. The two orgasms he'd given her were easily the best she'd ever had. She could still picture every detail of him, from his dark unruly hair to his piercing blue eyes. She could still imagine his scent. She could still remember the connection she'd felt to him, and how it had made her hesitant to leave him afterwards. She'd never felt a connection like that to anyone before, not even to Edison, and it had made her do unspeakable things. Her behavior that night—the one-night stand, the cheating—was so far out of character for her that she _still_ sometimes couldn't believe that it all wasn't just a figment of her imagination.

Sometimes Olivia wished that she knew how to contact Fitz, just to make sure that he was real. Most of the time she knew that it was for the better this way. She was a married woman. She ought to feel a little more remorseful and a little less nostalgic about her encounter with Fitz.

Olivia's alarm clock sounded again, startling her out of her thoughts. She turned it off and stretched lazily, wishing she still had another twenty minutes before she had to get up. She didn't. It was 7:00, and Olivia liked to get to work by 8:30 at the latest. She was a second grade teacher at the Fort Hill Elementary School, and she needed at least half an hour to settle down and let her morning caffeine kick in before her twenty-six students came filing in at 9:00. With a groan of discontent, Olivia crawled out of bed and padded her way to the bathroom.

Half an hour later, she was almost finished with her morning routine when it occurred to her that Edison hadn't returned home last night. That in itself wasn't unusual, but she could've sworn he'd told her last week that his flight would be getting in around 10pm. Davis Corporation was the official foodservice provider of the 2014 Winter Olympics, and Edison had spent the last two weeks in Sochi, Russia, preparing for the event. Olivia usually fell asleep around 9:30 on school nights, but she was a light sleeper. He would've woken her up if he had come in.

Frowning thoughtfully, Olivia grabbed her cell phone and called him. He didn't answer, of course, and she hung up without leaving him a voicemail. She'd realized a long time ago that he hardly ever listened to her messages, anyway. She tossed the phone to the side, figuring that maybe his flight was changed or delayed—he _had_ mentioned that there was a lot of snow falling in Sochi—or it was possible that she had just gotten the date wrong. It had been a few days since she'd talked to him, after all. He wasn't one of those husbands who called to see how she was doing every day.

Pushing Edison to the back of her mind, Olivia opened the refrigerator in search of something she could bring for lunch. She wasn't too concerned about Edison. He always came back to her in one piece—fortunately or unfortunately, she wasn't sure.

* * *

"Chore. C-H-O-R-E," Olivia recited clearly, pointing at the word on the chalkboard as she spoke. She paused for a few moments and watched as her second-graders scribbled the term down in their vocabulary notebooks. When they all finished, she moved her finger down to the next word, "Dull. D-U-L-L."

As she waited for her students to finish copying again, Miss. Dwyer, her student teacher, caught her eye and discretely gestured towards the back of the classroom. Olivia had a feeling that she knew which student was not doing his work, and slowly walked through the clusters of tables towards the back of the classroom as she moved on to the next word.

"Eleven. E-L-E-V-E-N," she checked notebooks as she walked by, noting with satisfaction that everyone seemed to be following directions. _Except Teddy_, she thought, frowning as she stopped walking behind Theodore Grant. The dark haired, blue-eyed boy was drawing what appeared to be a dinosaur in his notebook instead of copying down his vocabulary list. This was what Miss. Dwyer had wanted Olivia to see, and Olivia wasn't at all surprised.

"Every," she continued, tapping her finger on Teddy's notebook to get his attention. He glanced up at her and she gave him a pointed look, nodding towards the blackboard, "E-V-E-R-Y."

Teddy frowned at her and shook his head, dropping his pencil and folding his arms across his chest. Olivia bent down so that her lips were at his ear level.

"Teddy, you need to copy down your vocabulary words," she said patiently, even though she was feeling anything but patient with this child. Teddy's behavior had deteriorated slowly but surely during the last few weeks before Christmas break, and now that it was January and school was back in session he was quickly becoming a nightmare to deal with.

"No," Teddy said stubbornly.

"You're not going to be able to complete your homework tonight if you don't have your vocabulary words," Olivia reasoned, even though she was sure Teddy already knew that. Every Monday since the beginning of September the class got a new list of vocabulary words, and every Monday night they had to come up with two sentences for every word. This was nothing new.

"But I already know all of these vocabulary words!" Teddy exclaimed loudly and impatiently, drawing the attention of several of his classmates. He closed his eyes and recited the next two words on the list, "Globe. G-L-O-B-E. Leave. L-E-A-V-E."

"Can you spell pig backwards and then say funny?" Tyler McLean asked from his seat next to Teddy.

"Tyler, I've asked you not to tell that joke in my classroom," Olivia scolded, knowing where the question was headed. Her kids had been giggling over the 'Gee I pee funny,' joke for months now. Teddy rolled his eyes at his friend.

"I'm not gonna fall for that, Tyler. I've heard that joke a million times," he said. Tyler looked appropriately subdued, and Olivia turned her attention back to Teddy.

"I know that you probably know all of these words already, Teddy, but I think you need to copy them down anyway," she said reasonably, "There's no way you're going to remember all of them once you get home tonight."

Teddy stared at her for a long moment. That was his thing that he did whenever she asked him to do something—he'd just stare at her with those big blue eyes. Finally, he scowled and picked up his pencil.

"Thanks, Teddy," Olivia said good naturedly, relieved that he wasn't going to put up more of a fight as he began to copy down the words he'd missed. Olivia straightened up and turned back to her class, "Globe. G-L-O-B-E."

"Mrs. Davis! Teddy took my eraser!"

Olivia had barely managed to make it ten feet away. She turned back around to see Teddy holding Sophia Graham's eraser.

"Teddy, do we take other people's things without asking?" Olivia asked.

"No!" Sophia shrieked accusingly while Teddy just stared at Olivia sullenly. Olivia stared back.

"Give it back please, Teddy."

Teddy hesitated before handing the eraser back to Sophia.

"I don't want your stupid eraser, anyway."

"Well good because it's _not yours_!"

Olivia took in a deep breath and looked at the clock. It was only 10:30. This was going to be a long day.

* * *

"Knock knock," Olivia called in a friendly voice as she stopped in the open doorway to Room 107. It was the end of the day and all of the students had gone home. Olivia had her coat on and was on her way out the door as well, but she decided to swing by and see if Quinn was around first.

"Hey, Mrs. Davis," Quinn looked up from where she was working at her desk and smiled. Even though they'd been good friends since college, Olivia and Quinn went back and forth between calling each other by their first and last names while they were at school. Olivia walked further into Quinn's first-grade classroom and perched on a table near the desk.

"Whatcha doin'?" she asked, leaning over to take a peek at what Quinn was working on, "Oooh, are those addition problems? Fun."

"Yeah," Quinn dropped her pencil and stretched in her chair, "I figured I should probably get a head start on this grading before I get home and Charlie jumps on me. I never get any work done at home now that we live together."

Olivia chuckled. Charlie was Quinn's new husband of five months. He was a nice, quiet bar-owner who apparently couldn't keep his hands off of Quinn. Olivia was a little bit jealous. She wished that she and Edison had half the passion that Charlie and Quinn had. She didn't think that Edison had ever looked at her with the love and adoration that she saw in Charlie's gaze when he looked at Quinn. Even if he ever had, their honeymoon phase was practically ancient history. It had been a very long time since Olivia had felt really, truly desired by Edison.

"Oh gosh, sex all the time," Olivia said sarcastically but quietly—just in case any young ears happened to still be around, "Life must be so difficult for you, Mrs. Perkins."

"It is, Mrs. Davis," Quinn said with a grin, "So anyway, did you get the memo about the date for the aquarium trip?"

"No," Olivia answered. She, Quinn, and a couple of other teachers had been trying to plan a field trip for the first and second graders to the New England Aquarium, "Did we finally get enough buses for everyone?"

"Jeez, Liv, you never check your mailbox, do you?" Quinn asked with a disapproving shake of her head, "Anyway, yeah we got the buses for January 31st. We've got the tickets ready to go and I've even already got a few parents who've volunteered to chaperone so, yeah, we should be good to go. And it's a Friday, which is awesome, because who doesn't like a field trip on a Friday. Plus it's your birthday, Liv! Once all the kiddos go home we can call Abby and Harrison and go out for drinks!"

"Excellent," Olivia said happily, "Well, not so much the it being my birthday part, but I'm glad we got all the details to finally come together."

"Oh come on, Liv. Who doesn't want to spend their twenty-ninth birthday at the aquarium?"

"My birthday at the aquarium strolling hand in hand with a nice guy gazing at all the exotic fish? That sounds nice. My birthday at the aquarium trying to keep an eye on one hundred and forty hyperactive five, six, and seven-year-olds?" Olivia shuddered visibly at the thought.

"Yeah, you're right," Quinn agreed with a shudder of her own as Olivia suddenly remembered Teddy Grant, who she'd been meaning to talk to Quinn about.

"Hey, you had Teddy Grant in your class last year, right?" she asked.

"Yeah, he's such a cutie pie, isn't he? And he's really smart. I remember he was doing double-digit addition and subtraction problems before the rest of the class even got the hang of single-digit problems."

"He is really smart," Olivia mused. She'd never had a problem with Teddy academically. His tests and homework were always flawless and he usually caught on to new concepts quickly. Plus, as he'd demonstrated earlier that day, his vocabulary was outstanding, "But his behavior is _awful_, and it's only getting worse. Did you have any problems with him last year?"

"_Teddy_? This is Theodore Grant we're talking about, right? _My_ sweet little Teddy?" Quinn asked, wide-eyed. At Olivia's nod, she continued, "No, I never had any problems with him. I mean, sure he liked to talk to his friends and all that typical first-grade stuff, but he never had any serious behavior issues. He always did his work and he was so sweet and helpful. He'd always volunteer to be the sweeper or something during clean-up times."

Teddy? Volunteer to sweep the classroom? That sounded nothing like the child Olivia had come to know.

"He's not your sweet little Teddy anymore, Quinn. Actually, at the beginning of the year he was a pretty good kid," Olivia conceded, "But I would say that since the last month before Christmas break his behavior has been on a definite downward spiral. He speaks out during class _all the time_, and a lot of it is just mouthy back-talking or interrupting me to ask a rude and irrelevant question. And he doesn't listen. During clean-up or line-up time he's never doing what he's supposed to be doing, he's just off in his own little world or else distracting the other kids. And in the week since we've been back from break he's been a nightmare. He intentionally does things to bother other kids. On Friday at dismissal time me and Miss. Dwyer were having the kids line up, and Teddy was ready to go but most of the others were a little slow getting their snow pants and snow boots on. Teddy was standing by the door getting really impatient and whining about how he wanted to go home, and I was trying to get him to be a little more patient when he suddenly just opened the door and took off."

"What?" Quinn asked in disbelief. Olivia nodded.

"Yup. He took off running. I had to chase him halfway down the hallway and drag him back. He stayed in from recess today because of it. But now I'm having serious doubts about bringing him on the field trip. I can't have a child who has a history of running away and who I can't reason with come along. What if we're outside the aquarium and he just decides to take off again?"

"You're right," Quinn agreed, "I can't believe this is my Teddy Grant we're talking about. Have you called his parents?"

"Are his parents together? I've never spoken to either of them," Olivia said with a frown, "They've only got one phone number and email address listed under their contact information. The week before vacation I called home and got voicemail so I left a message but no one returned it. Same with the email I sent. I was thinking that maybe since there's only one set of contact information listed that his parents aren't together."

"No, they're together," Quinn said, "Or at least, they were together last year when they came to open house and introduced themselves as Mr. and Mrs. Grant. They didn't come to open house this year?"

Olivia shook her head. She had never seen or spoken to Teddy's parents. For the first couple months of school she hadn't thought much of it. While it was true that most parents did like to come to open house and meet the person who would be providing their child with the cornerstone of their education, some parents were working or just couldn't make it. Teddy's contact information form was hastily filled in and any questions that weren't required were left blank. Contact information for a second parent, as well as his parent's marital status, was an optional question.

"No. I've never met them," Olivia said, "I was really annoyed when Christmas break came and no one returned my messages, though."

"Maybe try again?" Quinn suggested, trying to recall her experience with Teddy's parents, "When I met them they seemed like the type of people who really wanted to be involved in their child's education. Well, not so much his mother…I think her name was Milly? Mellie?"

"Mellie," Olivia remembered seeing that name, "She's the one listed on his contact form."

"Right, she was nice but it seemed like the fake nice. You know, the 'I'm-being-nice-to-you-but-really-I-have-much-more-important-things-I-should-be-doing' nice. Dad seemed more genuine, though. We talked for a long time. He actually seemed like he was really interested in education and he was doing a lot of work with Teddy at home, which explained why Teddy used to know half of the lesson plan before I even taught it. He mentioned that he used to be something…a lawyer, maybe…but he quit and became a college professor because he wanted to spend more time with Teddy. It's weird that you haven't heard from him all year."

"Maybe since Teddy's been doing well academically he doesn't see any reason to be in touch?" Olivia wondered out loud.

"Maybe. I would call home again, though. Dad struck me as the type of guy where if Teddy was misbehaving in class, he'd want to know about it."

"Okay," Olivia agreed, "I think I'll call when I get home. Hopefully someone will answer this time."

"Yeah, and if you're worried about bringing him on the field trip then I would make him a conditional child," Quinn advised. A conditional child was a child who, due to behavioral issues, could only attend school field trips if a parent or guardian came along with them as a chaperone, "That will get his parents' attention because if Teddy can't go on the field trip with all his friends, he's going to complain. Plus a child who runs away from the classroom needs to be a conditional child anyway. We can't have that happening in public places. God knows what kind of chaos will ensue."

Olivia nodded, happy with that game plan.

"Good idea. I was thinking about making him a conditional child anyway but I wasn't sure if I was being too harsh," she admitted, "I'm glad you think it's a good idea too."

"Definitely."

"Alright. I'll give his parents another call tonight. Let's see how this goes."

* * *

Olivia got home feeling optimistic after her talk with Quinn. She had been starting to think that she might never get in touch with Teddy's parents without Mr. Beene, the school principal, getting involved, but Quinn had given her hope. Maybe Teddy's parents had just been busy with the holidays the first few times she'd tried to contact them. Maybe they'd meant to call her back, but time had just slipped away. Olivia could understand that. The same thing happened to her all the time.

Olivia opened her front door to find two brown suitcases sitting in the entryway.

"Edison?" she called, slipping off her winter coat and hanging it on the hook by the door. She toed off her shoes and pushed them against the wall beneath her coat, then made her way further into the house. "Edison?"

No answer. Figuring he had just dropped his luggage off quickly before heading to check in at the office, Olivia grabbed the mail and slowly made her way up the stairs as she sifted through it.

She entered their bedroom to find Edison propped up on his side of the bed with his back against the headboard and his laptop on a pillow in front of him.

"Oh hi, you're here," she said, surprised but happy. It was nice not coming home to an empty house for once, "Didn't you hear me calling your name?"

"Give me a second, Liv," Edison didn't even look up as she came in the room, still typing away on his computer. Olivia stopped in front of him and watched him for a second, waiting for him to stop and acknowledge her. When he didn't, she rolled her eyes and turned away from him, moving to her dresser to find something more comfortable to wear.

_Typical Edison. Leaves his wife home alone for two weeks, doesn't even stop to say hello to her when he gets back._

A few years ago Olivia would have gotten upset, but she didn't anymore. She'd been through this a million times before, and letting anything Edison did upset her would only end up ruining her day. She could dwell on his actions forever, or she could brush it off. Move on. It wouldn't bother her if she didn't think about it too much.

Olivia pulled a pair of black yoga pants and a blue tank top out of her dresser. Turning around to face Edison she slowly unbuttoned the soft yellow blouse she'd worn to school that day, wondering if he would even notice.

She slipped the blouse off of her arms and tossed it on the bed. Her fingers were reaching for the zipper of her skirt when Edison finally put his laptop down.

"Sorry, Liv. I had to send that email—"

"Of course, Edison. Work is more important," Olivia murmured under her breath so softly that he couldn't hear her. He continued talking, oblivious.

"We've got a lot going on this week with the Olympics coming up so soon and one of our New York accounts is—whoa," Edison stopped talking as he finally turned to look at her and realized that she was mostly naked. Kicking her black pencil skirt to the side, Olivia stood before him in only a silky pink bra and panty set. She noted with a small hint of satisfaction that Edison's eyes trailed up and down her body a few times with slight interest. Good to know that she wasn't so ugly that her own husband wouldn't take a peek if she were standing before him naked.

"How was your trip?" Olivia asked, ignoring his roving eyes and reaching for the yoga pants on the dresser behind her. If Edison thought he was getting sex after ignoring her for a full five minutes, he had another think coming, "I thought you were supposed to be coming back last night."

"I did," Edison said, "Well, I got back to the States yesterday. I decided to extend my layover in New York so I could visit our office there this morning."

"Oh," Olivia remarked, tugging the yoga pants over her hips and reaching for her tank top, "Nice of you to tell your wife."

"Sorry, Liv," Edison seemed to realize then that Olivia was actually putting clothes on, not removing more for him, and he met her eyes for the first time. Olivia stared blankly at him. He was always 'sorry Liv,' She didn't care anymore, "I figured you would know that I was still doing work stuff."

"I did," Olivia said with a shrug, "But it still would've been nice to hear it from you."

"I was busy. Next time," Edison said, and Olivia nodded her head knowing full well that he wouldn't call the next time, either.

"Are you going back to work today?" she asked.

"Nah. I've got some work to do from here, but I'm not going in to the office," Edison answered, "I figured maybe if you had some grading then we could work next to each other."

Olivia softened a little. It wasn't much, but it was the most Edison had offered to spend time with her since Christmas. She wasn't jumping for joy, but she didn't see the point of holding resentment against him, either.

"I have some grading I could do," she said, going to sit by Edison's feet at the edge of the bed, facing him, "So how is Russia?"

"It's nice," he answered, "Everything's going well. We're pretty much all set over there."

"When do you have to go back?"

"I'll probably leave here on February 5th or 6th. I'll be there for the opening ceremony on the 7th and I'll stay at least another week or so beyond that. Maybe for the whole thing, if I need to."

"That's nice. I bet it'll be fun," Olivia said, knowing he would probably get to watch a lot of the competitions when he wasn't working. She wished she could go, but she would never leave her students to a substitute teacher for that long. They wouldn't learn anything, and she would come back to find her perfectly ordered classroom in chaos.

"I hope so. Oh, by the way, there's going to be a little celebration here the weekend before, a kickoff party," Edison told her. Olivia frowned, knowing that she was expected to attend and that she would have to look and behave perfectly all night long. Edison loved showing her off to all of the other executives at these types of events. Olivia found them to be woefully painful. She had to spend the night on Edison's arm and smile and nod and laugh when appropriate, and to fake politeness when really she just wanted to smash the faces of every other person there. When she wasn't with Edison, she had to mingle with the other wives in attendance, most of whom were boring stay-at-home mothers who couldn't understand why Olivia had a career of her own and who asked nosy questions about when she and Edison would be starting a family. And _then_ Olivia usually had to deal with Edison's mother on top of it all.

Yes, Olivia hated those events.

"Okay," she said reluctantly, hoping in her mind that the party would at least be held on Saturday, "What day is it?"

"It's the Friday before the Olympics begin…the 29th maybe? The 30th?"

"It's the 31st," Olivia informed him.

"The 31st, right," Edison said. When he didn't say anything else, Olivia sighed.

"I was hoping we could do something else that day," she told him, "We're going on a field trip to the aquarium at school but then Quinn mentioned that maybe we could all get drinks or something—"

"What? Liv, no," Edison shook his head, "Get drinks with your friends some other day—you know I don't like you out drinking so much, anyway. You can't miss this party. It's important."

"Of course," Olivia mumbled.

"You can't seriously think that hanging out with your friends is more important than—"

"_January 31__st__, _Edison," Olivia said pointedly, and he finally caught on.

"Oh, right, your birthday," he said. He frowned and looked like he was deep in thought for a moment before his eyes brightened and he scooted down the bed to sit next to her, "Well, you can still see your friends at work that day and—"

"Ugh," Olivia rolled her eyes and tried to stand up, but Edison grabbed her hand, and kept talking.

"…And I'm sure they wouldn't mind celebrating with you the next day. It'll be a Saturday, after all. In the meantime," he rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand a few times and lowered his voice an octave, "I'm sure we can squeeze in a romantic dinner before the party. We can get you your favorite grilled salmon from that place downtown. And after the party we can get some of your favorite candles and those massage oils you like, maybe see about firing up the Jacuzzi…"

Edison let his voice trail off suggestively and Olivia eyed him warily, knowing that the likelihood of him wanting to indulge in a sensual massage and lovemaking session at two in the morning after a work party was practically zero. He was just saying things that he thought she wanted to hear. Whatever would make her go along without complaining.

"Fine," she said reluctantly, standing up, "But you owe me, Edison. You have to take me somewhere nice, a _real _date with flowers and a fancy restaurant, when you get back from the Olympics. No, _two dates_, because let's be honest with ourselves, you're not going to be here on Valentine's Day—"

"Liv, you know I'm going to do everything I can to be here for you on Valentine's Day."

"_Two dates, _Edison."

"Fine."

* * *

An hour later Edison was still propped up against the headboard of their bed, laptop back in place in front of him. Olivia was lying on her stomach on her side of the bed with her head by his knees and her legs crossed in midair at the top of the bed, a pillow under her chest, grading the spelling test she'd given on Friday. They were working silently. Olivia knew better than to say too much to Edison when he was too absorbed in his work. He wouldn't be listening to her anyway.

Olivia finished with Belen Hightower's test and entered the final score into her gradebook before setting it in her stack of finished papers and moving on to the next test. It was Teddy Grant's. She glanced at the alarm clock over her shoulder. She planned to call his parents around six o'clock. She figured that—assuming his parents worked regular hours—that would give them plenty of time to leave work, pick up the kids, and get home before she called. It was 5:50 now.

Olivia went over Teddy's test. It was flawless, of course. The child really was very bright. Olivia didn't think he'd ever earned less than an 85% on anything, and even that 85% had only been once. Not for the first time, Olivia wondered if he was acting out simply because he wasn't being challenged enough. Maybe he needed a couple of extra assignments to keep him from getting bored. That was something she wanted to suggest to his parents, if she ever got in touch with them.

Olivia scribbled a 105%-he'd even answered the extra credit question correctly—with an exclamation point on the top of Teddy's test, along with a 'Nice job!' She entered the grade into her book before reaching for the leather tote she used as a schoolbag. She had Teddy's contact information form in there somewhere. Shuffling through papers, she found the one she was looking for and stood up.

"Done?" Edison asked her distractedly.

"No, I was just going to go make a quick phone call to a parent," Olivia replied, knowing that Edison wouldn't appreciate it if she started talking while he was trying to concentrate. She could hardly even believe he was talking to her now.

"Oh. The kid's grades are that bad?"

"No," Olivia said, smiling faintly, "But his behavior is."

"Oh," Edison didn't say anything else. Olivia grabbed her cell phone off of the nightstand and went into the hall, shutting the door to their bedroom behind her. She glanced down at the form in her hands. The phone number written down was Teddy's mother's cell phone number. She dialed it quickly and silently wished that someone would answer as she listened to it ring.

_Hello you've reached the cell phone of Mellie Grant, Esquire. Unfortunately I am unable to take your call right now. Please leave your name and your phone number and I will call you back as soon as possible. Thank you._

Olivia cursed softly under her breath as she listened to the recording. She had done this before.

"Hello, Mrs. Grant, this is Olivia Davis calling from Fort Hill Elementary School. I'm Teddy's teacher and I would really like to touch base with you regarding his recent behavior in school and our upcoming class field trip to the New England Aquarium. If you could please give me a call, my phone number is 555-724-4091. This is my personal cell phone, not a school number, so please feel free to call during the evening or on the weekend if you need to. It's very important that I speak with you in the upcoming days. Again, my phone number is 555-724-4091. Thank you, take care."

Olivia sighed and hung up the phone. Hopefully she would get a different outcome this time. If not, she would try emailing again in a few days. If _that_ was unsuccessful, Olivia would probably have to enlist the help of Mr. Beene.

Olivia went back into the bedroom and was surprised to find that Edison had closed his laptop and set it on the nightstand.

"Are _you_ done working?" she asked.

"Nah, but I could use a little break. Come here," Edison scooted so that he was sitting on the side of the bed with his feet on the floor and beckoned for Olivia. She hesitantly took a few steps forward and stood before him, unsure of what his game was.

"Closer, Liv, come," he reached forward and grabbed her hands, tugging her gently until she stood between his parted legs. He dropped her hands on his shoulders and slid his own hands up and down her waist, "Have I ever told you how good these yoga pants make your ass look?"

"You want to have sex?" Olivia asked with a raised eyebrow. She and Edison hardly ever had sex anymore. They probably only did it once or twice a month. Edison usually seemed so disinterested in her, and he didn't exactly fascinate Olivia. Once upon a time Edison had been handsome, but with working long hours he didn't really take care of himself anymore and his figure was starting to slip. Not to mention that he was nothing—_nothing_—like Fitz. That man was a god. Before Fitz, Olivia had been somewhat satisfied with sex with Edison, but now she knew exactly what she was missing and she craved it more than anything. Edison could distract her sometimes, but he simply could not provide her with what she really wanted.

"Yeah, Liv. Jeez," Edison rubbed his thumbs along the top of her yoga pants, "I was trying to give you a compliment."

"Sorry," Olivia murmured, even though Edison didn't have a romantic bone in his body and normally wouldn't know how to set the mood if it would kill him not to, "You haven't told me how good my ass looks lately. You never give me compliments like that anymore."

"Mmm, I get busy," Edison said, pulling her down until she was sitting in his lap. He leaned forward and kissed her softly, "I work hard, baby, but you know I do it for you."

Olivia had to hold herself back from rolling her eyes. Edison didn't work hard so he could provide for her. She had her own career. She didn't need him to provide for her. He worked hard for his own damn self.

"You should always make time for your wife, Edison," she told him.

"I am making time. Right now. Come here."

Edison kissed her again, this time with more intensity than the first. Olivia closed her eyes and opened her mouth dutifully when she felt Edison run his tongue along her lips. His hands wandered up her sides for a moment before she felt him lift her and set her on her back on top of the comforter, her school papers pushed to the side and safely out of the way. He climbed over her and quickly put his mouth back on hers, continuing their kiss.

Olivia hooked her legs around Edison's hips and tried to enjoy herself, but Edison's tongue was too dry and his kisses were too bruising. His hands were too clumsy as they stripped her of her yoga pants, panties, and tank top, leaving her in just her bra. Somehow he had managed to remove his own clothing as well, and Olivia whimpered a little as he entered her slowly.

"You okay, Liv?" he asked. Olivia nodded.

"Yes," she murmured, "It's a little tight but keep going."

He obliged and began moving in and out of her, but everything about sex with Edison was just so…mechanical. Boring. Predictable. Olivia let her eyes fall shut so she didn't really have to look at him.

She couldn't stop herself from picturing _him_ instead. She wrapped her arms around Edison's neck and tried to pretend that it was Fitz who was moving in and out of her. She tried to imagine the way Fitz's fingers felt as they played with her clit, the spicy masculine scent of his cologne as it filled her nostrils, the way his groans of pleasure sounded in her ear as he came. It was only then that Olivia felt herself truly start to get a little aroused, and she was just starting to think that maybe she would be able to fantasize her way into an orgasm when she heard Edison grunt as he came inside of her.

Never mind.

* * *

**Ew, Olivia/Edison (Olivison? Edivia?) sex. *****Shudders***** Sorry about that guys. It doesn't happen very often and, as you can see, it's not very good. Anywho, let me know what you think of this latest installment. We'll hear from our dear friend Fitz in the next chapter. Ta ta for now! **


	3. You Wouldn't Mind

**Hello everyone! Thanks again for all of your amazing reviews! You guys are awesome! You guys loved the first two installments so much (especially the Olitz sex in the Prologue, lol) that I'm actually nervous that this story might not live up to all your expectations. I'm gonna give it a good try, though! **

**I've decided to update tonight because I'm headed to Miami tomorrow for almost a week sans laptop, provided it stops snowing around here long enough so that a plane can take off. Unfortunately that means it'll be at least next weekend before I have time to edit/put up Chapter 3. **

**To those of you who were seriously creeped out by the Olivia/Edison sex, let me assure you that there will be none of that in this chapter, lol. I really wanted to set the tone of where Olivia is coming from when she meets Fitz again, so I feel like it was a necessary evil for the last chapter. But, hey. We all survived. Go us!**

**So a couple of you were confused about the whole Miss Dwyer thing. I decided to make Lindsay Dwyer, Olivia's student teacher, and Quinn Perkins, Olivia's friend, two different people in this story. Why, you ask? Well, I don't know. In hindsight, I can see how that was really dumb of me and confusing for you guys. My bad! Hopefully this clears everything up, and I don't think we'll have too much to worry about going forward because Miss Dwyer isn't a major character in this story and she'll probs only be mentioned one or two more times.**

* * *

**Chapter 2: I Was Hoping That You Wouldn't Mind Meeting With Me… **

"…And then, Amelia and Alison showed us how to make slime!"

"You _made_ slime?" Fitz wrinkled his nose in mock disgust.

"Yup. And they let us add this stuff to it that made it bright green! It's really cool and all the girls think it's yucky so I tried to put it on Ramiella's arm to gross her out but Amelia wouldn't let me. I still have it, dad! But I forgot it at the Children's Center and mom wouldn't let me go back in so I have to get it on Monday. Also, we played kickball like _twenty_ times this week, and my team won every single time!"

"That's awesome, bub," Fitz said good-naturedly, peeking his head over the pot of water on the stove to see if it was boiling yet. It wasn't.

It was six-thirty on Friday afternoon and Fitz was in the kitchen of the luxury three-bedroom apartment he had recently begun renting, making spaghetti for dinner while he happily listened to his youngest son ramble about what he'd done that week at Fort Hill Children's Center, the afterschool program he attended on days when he didn't have any extracurricular activities planned. After not having seen each other all week, Teddy was spending the weekend with Fitz. Fitz missed his son dearly when he wasn't around, and couldn't think of a better way to spend his next few days off.

"Am I still going to baseball practice tomorrow?" Teddy asked then, swinging his feet back and forth in his chair at the kitchen table.

"Yup," Fitz answered with a nod, pulling a jar of pasta sauce out of one of the cabinets, "Yes for baseball, but no piano lessons."

"Yeah!" Teddy cheered, pumping his fists in the air jubilantly, "I hate piano. Piano stinks."

"Piano doesn't stink," Fitz said gently, even though he agreed with his son. It was his wife Mellie's idea to enroll Teddy in piano lessons for the year, and Fitz would support her in front of Teddy even if he thought it was asinine to force the child into an activity that he didn't like when there were plenty of other extracurricular activities out there. "But lucky for us your lesson got cancelled for tomorrow afternoon, so I was thinking maybe we could head out to the park and play some football for awhile. How does that sound?"

"Yeah!" Teddy cheered again, and Fitz smiled. They hadn't played football together in awhile, and he was looking forward to it, "Can Gerry come?"

"No. Gerry's back at school, remember?"

Fitzgerald Thomas Grant IV, or Gerry, was Fitz and Mellie's oldest son. At nineteen, he was a sophomore at Princeton University and had just returned to school at the end of winter break last week. Fitz and Mellie also had an eighteen-year-old daughter, Karen, who was in her senior year at The Trottier Preparatory School, a boarding school in upstate New York.

"So how was school this week, bub?" Fitz asked as the water on the stove finally began to boil.

"Good," Teddy chirped.

"Good? What did you learn?" Fitz asked. He always made it a point to stay on top of Teddy's schoolwork. He had let Mellie convince him to enroll Karen and Gerry in boarding school as soon as they got to first grade, but now he felt as though he had missed out on a huge portion of their childhood and he regretted it. When Teddy hit first grade last year, Fitz had stubbornly refused to let Mellie send him away. He quit his job as a criminal defense lawyer and began teaching law courses at George Washington University so that he could be home for Teddy more often, and—since Mellie was convinced that Teddy wouldn't receive nearly as good of an education at the local elementary school—he took it upon himself to teach Teddy extra math and reading lessons at night. Recently, he didn't see Teddy as often as he would have liked, but he still made sure that he knew what his child was learning in school.

"Boring stuff," Teddy replied, "We got a bunch of spelling words that I already know, and we're doing boring word problems in math and learning to count money…Oh, and guess what!"

"What?" Fitz said, amused, as Teddy suddenly jumped out of his seat in excitement.

"We're going on a field trip!"

"You are? That's awesome. To where?"

"The New England Aquarium!" Teddy exclaimed, "We're reading a book about penguins, and Mrs. Davis says that we're gonna get to see _tons_ of real life penguins at the aquarium. Also they have sharks, and cool fish, and a _giant_, one thousand year old turtle—"

"A one thousand year old turtle?" Fitz interrupted, raising a dubious eyebrow as he dumped dry spaghetti into the pot of boiling water and turned the gas down. He placed chopped up meat for the sauce into a frying pan along with some chopped onions, peppers, and garlic.

"Yeah! And it's _soooo big_! Mrs. Davis showed us a picture of it in school. I can't wait to see it! You have to sign my permission slip! We just got them in school today. And guess what else? I just remembered! I have a surprise!"

"A surprise?"

"Yeah! Stay right there!"

Before Fitz could say anything else, Teddy sprinted out of the kitchen towards his bedroom. Fitz chuckled and stirred the ingredients in the frying pan. Seconds later, Teddy came rushing back into the kitchen, breathless, clutching a small blue backpack in one hand and a piece of paper in the other.

"I got it!" he exclaimed triumphantly.

"What is that?" Fitz asked, eying the backpack. It was way too small to be a regular school backpack, and Fitz had never seen it before. He wondered briefly if Mellie bought it for him. She was constantly buying Teddy ridiculous toys and things to keep him occupied and out of her hair.

"It's Ollie!"

"Who's Ollie?"

"This is Ollie!" Teddy said enthusiastically, unzipping the backpack and pulling out a stuffed orangutan with long, dangly arms and legs. "Ollie is our class pet. He gets to go home and hang out with everybody for one night, and tonight is finally my night! I get to play with him all weekend, and he can eat dinner with us, and watch TV with us, and he can sleep in my bed. Plus, Mrs. Davis says he should do my homework with me. And then I have to write about all the things that we did together in the Ollie notebook. Plus Mrs. Davis says we can take pictures of Ollie if we want to. Look!"

Teddy pulled a composition notebook out of the backpack and handed it to Fitz. Fitz flipped it open, and on the first page he found a typed note to parents from Teddy's teacher explaining the concept of Ollie. Fitz skimmed it and flipped through the rest of the notebook. Each page was filled with a different child's handwritten description of the things that he or she did with Ollie. One child had taken Ollie snowboarding. Another child built a block tower with Ollie. Several of the entries included pictures of the kids and Ollie, presumably taken and printed out by parents.

"Oh, this is cool," Fitz said as he got the gist of what Ollie was all about. He closed the notebook, "So Ollie hangs out with us this weekend?"

"Yup!" Teddy nodded cheerfully.

"Well we've got to make sure we show him a good time then. Do you think Ollie likes spaghetti?"

"Ollie told me that he _loves_ spaghetti!"

"Awesome, so maybe we should set aside a little bit just for him."

"Can we take a picture on your phone and put it in the notebook so Mrs. Davis can see?"

"Absolutely."

"Hooray!" Teddy cheered, tossing the backpack and the notebook to the side and tucking Ollie under his arm.

"And what is this?" Fitz asked, reaching for the piece of paper that Teddy had also brought with him out of the bedroom.

"That's my permission slip for the aquarium! Mrs. Davis gave it to me today, and she said that you have to sign it and it's very important for you to call her too. She says I can't go on the field trip unless you call her, so don't forget daddy, please! You should do it right now!"

"Call her?" Fitz frowned. Teddy had been going to Fort Hill Elementary School since kindergarten, and in that time he'd gone on plenty of field trips. Fitz didn't recall ever having to call one of his teachers before. He usually just signed the permission slip and Teddy was good to go.

"Yes! Call her right now!" Teddy insisted.

"Hold on, bub, let me read this," Fitz murmured as he scanned the paper. It looked like an average permission slip, with Teddy's name, the date of the trip, and a description of the trip already typed in. There were some questions for Fitz to answer and a place where he had to sign and date the form. And then, at the bottom, there was a handwritten note from Teddy's teacher.

_Mrs. Grant,_

_Please call or email me on or before January 24, 2014. It is important that we set up a meeting to discuss Teddy's behavior in class before the field trip. If I do not hear from you by the date above, Teddy will not be permitted to attend the field trip (even if this permission slip is returned with a signature). I can be reached by cell phone at 555-724-4091 and by email at opopedavis . Please do not hesitate to call during the evening or on weekends. _

_Take care!_

_Olivia Pope Davis_

Fitz frowned. Set up a meeting to discuss Teddy's behavior in class? As far as he knew, Teddy's behavior was just fine. He had never heard anything from Teddy or anyone else that would lead him to believe otherwise, and he couldn't see why Mrs. Davis would request a meeting before allowing Teddy to go on the field trip.

"Hey Teddy? Has everything been going okay in school?" he asked curiously.

"No. It's _boring_," Teddy informed him.

"Yeah but, other than being boring are things okay? Have you gotten into any trouble lately?"

"Not really," Teddy shrugged evasively and looked away. Fitz immediately knew he wasn't telling the whole truth.

"I won't get mad," he said good-naturedly, "I just want to know so that I'm not surprised when I call Mrs. Davis."

"Everything's fine," Teddy said, still not looking up at Fitz, "Just really, really booring."

Fitz definitely got the impression that there was something that Teddy wasn't telling him. He glanced down at the permission slip in his hands and re-read the note. This time, it occurred to him that the note wasn't addressed to _'Dear Parent/Guardian,' _or _'Dear Mr. and Mrs. Grant.'_ No, the letter was only addressed to one parent. _Mrs_. _Grant_.

A flash of anger went through Fitz as he set the permission slip down on the table. He had a feeling that he knew exactly what was going on.

* * *

Fitz waited until much later—after he and Teddy had eaten dinner, played a few board games, watched some cartoons, and Teddy had gone to bed—to pick up his phone and call the woman he still legally referred to as his wife.

"Hello Fitzgerald," she answered on the third ring. She had been exclusively been calling him by his full name for two months now. Fitz supposed it was her way of showing that she was mad, which was fine. He didn't give a damn how Mellie felt about him.

"Hi Mellie," Fitz said, sitting down in his bed and leaning back against the headboard, "Are you busy?"

"Yes," she responded, as he knew she would. Mellie told everyone who could hear her about how much work she had to put in at the law firm where she was partner. Fitz had to give her credit—the woman did work hard, and there were times when she really would be working this late at night—but he doubted, given that she had taken the time to pick Teddy up and drop him off with Fitz herself earlier that evening, that that was the case right now.

"Are you calling to apologize for your actions and move back into this house?" Mellie asked.

"Not a chance in hell," Fitz replied. Mellie was never going to get the apology she wanted, and he wished she would just accept that.

"Well then what do you want?"

"Have you talked to Teddy about school lately?" Fitz asked.

"Yes. He's doing fine. He showed me his last few tests and he got A's on everything. When Gerry was here last week they worked on multiplication together," Mellie responded.

"Yeah, but has he said anything to you about behavior? Do you know if he's been getting in trouble?"

"No, I haven't heard anything about…oh, wait," Mellie paused, and Fitz knew exactly what she was about to say, "I did get a few missed phone calls from his teacher…what's the woman's name? Mrs. Davis? She left me a few voicemails and I think she might have emailed me too, but I haven't gotten the chance to respond to them yet."

"You've been ignoring phone calls from Teddy's teacher?" Fitz demanded angrily.

"I haven't been ignoring them! I've just been busy these last few weeks with work and I haven't called her back yet."

Of course. This was exactly what Fitz had suspected. Mellie had never been the most nurturing or attentive parent. In fact, if Fitz didn't know any better, he would say that she didn't even really like children. She had sent Gerry and Karen away for most of their childhoods—a decision he wished he had never let her talk him into—and with Teddy she could get pretty impatient, preferring to hire a nanny to take care of him so she could get her work done. She never liked to spend time with Teddy the way that Fitz did. But still, Fitz never expected her to blatantly ignore phone calls from Teddy's teacher. He knew that Mellie did love her children, somewhere deep down, even if she had a hard time showing it.

"How many times has she called you, Mellie?" Fitz asked calmly, trying to keep his voice down and his anger with Mellie under control so he didn't wake Teddy.

"I don't know…three or four times, maybe."

"_Three or four times_?" Fitz repeated, shaking his head in disbelief, "How long ago was the first phone call?"

"I don't know, Fitz! Before Christmas sometime. I think right after Thanksgiving, probably…"

"So let me get this straight, your son's teacher has called you _three or four times_ since _Thanksgiving_, and you don't think it might be something important enough for you to take ten minutes out of your day and call her back?" Fitz asked, "Teddy is your son, Mellie. He is more important than your goddamn law firm—"

"I know that, Fitz," Mellie shouted, "You better stop making it seem like I'm such a god-awful mother when I'm not—"

"Why didn't you at least tell me that she called?" Fitz interrupted.

"Maybe if you hadn't _moved out_, I would have!"

"Just because we don't get along, does _not_ mean that you get to—"

"We would be getting along just fine, Fitzgerald, if you hadn't decided to be so selfish!"

"We haven't gotten along just fine in years, Mellie. Stop being delusional. And that's not the point. The point is, just because we don't get along, does _not_ mean that you get to withhold something so important about our child. His wellbeing comes first, Mellie. Before you, before me, before _work_—"

"Stop lecturing me, Fitz!"

Fitz stopped talking for a second and took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts. He was getting carried away. He was angry with Mellie, but arguing with her never led to anything productive. She was ambitious and cold and he was pretty sure that their marriage and children were nothing but a status symbol to her. They always had been and always would be. Arguing wouldn't change that.

"I'm going to call Mrs. Davis tomorrow and set up an appointment with her," he said calmly, "Would you like to attend?"

"Won't you be there?"

"Yes."

"So why do we both need to be there?"

Fitz shook his head.

"Okay, Mellie. I'll let you know how it goes. Have a good night."

He hung up the phone and tossed it on the pillow next to him without giving Mellie a chance to reply. For a moment he sat still on his bed with his head in his hands, thinking about what he would say to Mrs. Davis the next day. The woman probably thought he was a terrible father. He would apologize and make sure she knew that he was more than interested in what she had to say—if Teddy was misbehaving in school, Fitz certainly wanted to hear every single detail so that he could do what needed to be done at home to correct the problem. He wouldn't let his son get away with being a pain in the ass. He was already kicking himself internally for not checking in with Mrs. Davis sooner. He had attended the fall open house with Teddy's teachers in kindergarten and first grade, but this year he genuinely hadn't been able to make it. Mellie was supposed to go without him, but at the last second something had come up at the law firm and she hadn't. Fitz figured it was okay—Teddy always did well at school and he spoke highly of Mrs. Davis, or at least he had at the beginning of the school year. Fitz still planned to attend the spring open house, so he would have met her then.

But now that he thought about it, Fitz wasn't even sure if Mrs. Davis had his contact information. Mellie had filled out all of Teddy's school forms at the beginning of the year. Fitz should have known better than to let Mellie handle it on her own. He should have known she would put her career over their son.

Fitz sighed deeply and stood up, stripping off his shirt and pants as he moved toward his dresser to find pajamas. He briefly considered taking a shower, but he was tired and Teddy wasn't really used to the new apartment yet. During his last sleepover, Teddy had woken up in the middle of the night crying and terrified. Fitz didn't want the same thing to happen again while he was in the shower, so he opted to wait until the morning.

Fitz went through the motions of getting ready for bed, his mind still heavy with thoughts of Teddy and Mellie. He wondered, and not for the first time, how in the world he had gotten unlucky enough to be married to Mellie. He wished could be one of those men who were married to a nice girl, one who cared about his interests and desires, instead of a frigid shrew who was constantly trying to manipulate him for her own personal gain. Of course, Fitz would never regret getting married to Mellie—she had given him three beautiful children, after all, and he wouldn't trade them for the world—but he was definitely ready to move on.

Warm, chocolate brown eyes flashed through Fitz's mind as he pulled back the covers and climbed into bed. Olivia. He thought about her all the time, and she had been lurking in the back of his mind all evening—it was not lost on him that Teddy's teacher shared the same first name, and just hearing the moniker always made him think of the gorgeous, incredible woman he had met over two years ago. Fitz doubted he would ever forget a single detail about her, especially not those big doe eyes, or the way she had felt so soft and perfect moving against him.

Every day he regretted that he had let her go without getting her last name or a phone number or an email address or _anything_ that would help him find her again.

Fitz's cell phone lit up, signaling an incoming call and interrupting his thoughts. He glanced at the clock—it was nearly eleven—before reaching over to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Fitz! Whatcha up to?" the spirited and slightly tipsy voice of his good friend Stephen Finch sounded over the line.

"I was just getting into bed."

"Aw, bed? Come on man! The night is young!"

"I've got Teddy this weekend."

"Really?" Stephen sounded surprised, and Fitz knew why. Mellie had initially been adamant about Teddy never staying in his father's new apartment without a court order, "So old Mellie finally lightened up, then?"

"Just a little," Fitz said wryly, "He's been sleeping over here and there. I think she sends him to me when she gets tired of him."

"That old bitch…but that's good news for you!" Stephen said cheerfully, "Well, I was going to see if you wanted to come hang out for a little while, but I guess I'll have to catch you later—hey, maybe if you don't have any plans for Sunday you can bring the little man to the bowling alley. I'll be around, and I know Teddy probably misses his Uncle Stephen."

"Yeah, that sounds good. I'm sure Teddy would love to," Fitz replied.

"Alright, it's a plan. Talk to you later, Fitz."

"Goodnight, Stephen."

* * *

"What do you think of this dress, Abby?" Olivia asked on Saturday afternoon, pulling a short, royal blue cocktail dress out of her closet and holding it up for her friend to see. Abby glanced up from where she was texting in an armchair to give the dress a once-over.

"Very nice," she said approvingly, "And I bet that neckline makes your boobs look fantastic."

"It does," Olivia murmured in agreement, critically inspecting the dress herself, "But I think it's too short. And the neckline is probably too low for one of Edison's stupid work parties."

"Then wear the black dress," Abby said with a shrug, "I actually like the blue one better, but you can never go wrong with black."

"But I just wore the black one recently, to one of the seven thousand Christmas parties I had to go to with Edison," Olivia lamented, hanging the blue dress back up in the closet, "I can't wear it again too soon. His mother will say something."

"She won't even notice! Who remembers stuff like that?" Abby asked.

"Edison's mother _definitely_ does," Olivia said, wrinkling her nose. Her mother-in-law, Alma Davis, was arrogant and insufferable and had absolutely no qualms about calling Olivia out on her tiniest of faux pas. Olivia could already hear the older woman in her head—_"Olivia, dear, that dress again? This party has been planned for weeks—couldn't you have made it to the store to pick up something new?"_

And from there, Alma would manage to segue into a lecture on Olivia's career: how she shouldn't have one if it was too time-consuming, and how Edison made more than enough for the both of them anyway, so who was Olivia kidding with her insignificant little paychecks?

"I can't believe you're even going to this party! It's on your birthday!" Abby exclaimed as Olivia visibly shuddered and rifled through her closet in search of another dress, "Who wants to spend their birthday surrounded by a bunch of Stepford Wives?"

Olivia sighed. She and Abby had had this conversation—the one where Abby tried to persuade her into going out to drinks with their friends on her birthday instead of to Edison's boring work party—about ten times already. As much as Olivia really wanted to, she knew Edison would be upset if she didn't go to the party. She didn't want to deal with Edison being angry with her. He wasn't exactly the most kind or sensitive person when he was mad, and he would probably say something mean and hurtful before taking off to Sochi and ignoring her calls for two weeks. Plus, he had been promising that he would make a special night out of the party, so Olivia figured he was probably going to shower her with flowers and expensive gifts and hopefully a little bit more attention than he would give her on a normal night.

"My birthday isn't all that special, Abby. People have to do things they don't want to do on their birthdays all the time. And he's going to take me to dinner beforehand. And he's going to want me to say good things about him at the party, so you know he'll show up with roses and some expensive gift I don't actually need."

"Yeah that's nice I guess, but I would think that Edison would at least _consider_ the fact that maybe you would like to skip the party. I mean, why can't _he_ skip the party with you? He can take you away on that big jet of his to somewhere warm for the weekend."

"First of all," Olivia said with a chuckle, "Edison doesn't have a jet. And second, he's not David. The man doesn't have a romantic bone in his body. Not all of us ladies get as lucky as you, Ms. Whelan."

"I still think you should ditch, Liv," Abby said, "Come out, get drinks with me, David, Harrison, Quinn…we can even invite that hot teacher from your school that has a crush on you. What is his name, again?"

"Mr. Miller?"

"Yeah, him. He's a little cutie, don't you think?" Abby giggled, "I would love to come home and find him in my bedroom."

"Aren't you engaged?" Olivia pointed out with a frown.

"Yeah," Abby smirked as Olivia's phone began to ring on the bed, "Doesn't mean I have to stop dreaming, though."

Olivia shook her head as she crossed the room to pick up her phone.

"Is that Harrison? Ask him why he thinks it's cool to not answer my calls—"

"It's not Harrison," Olivia said, glancing at the caller ID to see that whoever was calling her wasn't someone who was saved in her contacts, "I don't know who it is," she slid her finger across the screen and brought the phone up to her ear. "Hello?"

"Hi, I'm calling for Mrs. Olivia Davis," a husky male voice came over the line. Something about it sounded vaguely familiar, but Olivia couldn't place it.

"This is she," she replied, "May I ask who's calling?"

"Mrs. Davis, hi. I'm Fitzgerald Grant—Theodore's father."

Olivia's eyes widened. _Finally_. She had been trying to get in touch with this man for nearly two months now. She signaled to Abby that she would be right back, then ducked into the connecting bathroom and softly closed the door.

"Mr. Grant! Hello, how are you?" she asked politely.

"I'm doing fine, Mrs. Davis. Is this a good time to talk? I feel a little odd calling you on the weekend, but I saw the note on Teddy's permission slip last night and figured you might like to hear from me as soon as possible."

"This is a great time. Don't worry about it being the weekend—I know that some parents are busy during the week, so I try to let people know that I'm available at any time," Olivia said, making a mental note to thank Quinn. Her friend was right—as soon as she had made it impossible for Teddy to go on the class trip, she had his parents' attention.

"Well first off, I'd like to apologize. I spoke to my wife last night, and she mentioned that she's gotten quite a few messages from you over the past few weeks. I can assure you, I had no idea. I saw that you wanted to discuss Teddy's behavior before he goes on the field trip—I hope he hasn't been giving you any trouble."

The voice on the other end of the line sounded so sincere, Olivia instantly believed him. She felt a layer of the annoyance she had been starting to feel with Teddy's parents peel away.

"Well, we have had a couple of issues recently," Olivia said, making sure to choose her words very carefully, "Academically speaking, Teddy is an outstanding student, but in the last few months I've noticed a definite change in his behavior. He's having trouble listening to directions, he speaks out of turn during class, he's getting into more disagreements with his peers…These aren't really issues that Teddy had at the beginning of the school year and they only seem to be getting worse, so I was hoping that, if your schedule allows, you wouldn't mind meeting with me one day after school next week?"

"Of course. I think it would be best if we spoke in person," Teddy's father agreed without hesitation, "Is there a day in particular that you had in mind?"

"No," Olivia replied, "Monday is a holiday, as I'm sure you know, but I'm agreeable to whichever day works for you, Mr. Grant."

"How about Tuesday, then? I can be there about half an hour after dismissal time. I'd like to speak with you as soon as possible."

"Okay," Olivia said, as the strange sensation of familiarity came over her again. It was like she knew his voice from somewhere—maybe she had bumped into him last year or the year before when he'd come in to meet with Teddy's previous teachers, "Tuesday works for me. I'll see you then."

"Yes, but Mrs. Davis? Before I let you go, I'd like to make sure that you have my contact information. My wife isn't much for returning phone calls, as I'm sure you've noticed."

"Sure," Olivia said with a smile on her face—why was she smiling? "Did you call me from your personal number? It came up on my caller ID. I can make sure to save it."

"Yes, this is my cell phone. Please feel free to call me any time, day or night."

"Of course. Thanks for getting in touch, Mr. Grant. I'll see you soon."

"Take care, Mrs. Davis."

* * *

Tuesday was a long, stressful day in Olivia's classroom. She wasn't sure what was up with her students—maybe they were thrown off by the fact that Monday was Martin Luther King, Jr. Day—but a lot of them were having a hard time settling down and staying focused. It seemed to Olivia that every five minutes she was raising her voice about something, and she had to deal with way too much tattling and bickering.

Teddy was by far the worst. He started the day off on a bad note by goofing off and refusing to be silent during morning line-up, and he only went downhill from there. By the end of the day, Olivia was exhausted. She had never been happier to see her last student climb onto the school bus at 3:35. What she really wanted was to drive straight home and take a bubble bath with a glass of wine, but she couldn't do that today. She was expecting Teddy's father at 4:00.

Olivia returned to her classroom after dismissal time and found that it was mostly in good shape—all the chairs were up on the desks, the shelves were clear, and the floor had been nicely swept. She picked up a stray scarf and hung it on a coat hook, then decided that she might as well get some grading done while she waited for Mr. Grant.

Olivia sat down at her desk and reached for the Ollie backpack. Ollie had by pure coincidence gone home with Teddy for the weekend, and Olivia hadn't had a chance to look at what he had written yet. She pulled out the small composition notebook and flipped to the very last entry.

'_January 13, 2014,' _Teddy wrote, _'This weekend me and Ollie got to hang out with my dad. It was a lot of fun! We all went to the bowling alley…'_

Olivia smiled as she read about Teddy's trip to the bowling alley—how his dad let Ollie have his own spot on the score sheet, how they got to play one videogame at the adjoining arcade, how they ate chicken fingers with a friend of his dad's afterwards. For a second-grader it was very well written, and there were no serious spelling mistakes—as per usual for Teddy. Satisfied with the entry, Olivia flipped to the next page where Teddy had glued three pictures of his weekend with Ollie.

The first was a picture of Ollie sitting in front of a small plate of spaghetti. _'We got to eat spagety and meatballs for dinner.' _In the next, Teddy was in his pajamas in front of a bathroom sink, grinning with Ollie in one hand and his toothbrush in the other. _'Ollie helped me get redy for bed.'_

It was the very last picture that made Olivia stop breathing.

It was _him_. Tall, muscular build, dark wavy hair, and bright blue eyes that she would recognize anywhere. Teddy's eyes. Teddy had the same eyes. How could she not have realized that before? They were standing in front of the lanes at the bowling alley. Hehad his arm around Teddy, who was hugging Ollie, and they were both smiling the same charming smile that had once lured Olivia into doing some very naughty— uncharacteristic, _definitely_ unteacherlike—things.

'_Me, my dad, and Ollie went bowling.'_

Teddy's father. Fitz. He was Teddy's father. _Fitz_ was Teddy's father. Olivia stared at the picture, heart racing, mouth open in disbelief. She remembered the name that he had given her on the phone the other day—Fitzgerald Grant.

This was a joke. There was no way. She must be going crazy. That was it—she'd finally reached the point where she was so tired of being ignored by or else resigned to having bad sex with Edison that she was starting to imagine seeing Fitz in places where he actually was not. She was really, actually going crazy.

Olivia closed her eyes and counted to ten. She opened them.

He was still there. Fitz. Teddy's father.

Less than a minute later, Olivia was still staring at the picture in shock when there was a knock on her classroom door.

* * *

**Hmm…I wonder who that could be? Okay fine, it's Fitz. Lol. So we got to see a little bit of where Fitz is coming from in this chapter, and our two favorite people will be meeting again in the next chapter! Woohoo! Although, fair warning, I am trying to make this story reasonably realistic. So no, Olivia is not going to drop her panties and bang Fitz on her desk (she'll think about it, though). **

**Let me know what you think of this chapter! See you on the other side of Miami!**


	4. Remember Me?

**AN: I'm baaack! I did a lot of revamping and adding parts to this chapter tonight. Normally I would wait a day before I go back and do a read-through to make sure all is grammatically correct, but ehhh, I've kept you all waiting long enough! So you can have this chapter right now as long as you forgive me if you spy a typo or two. Agreed? Good!**

**And now, without further adieu…**

* * *

**Chapter 3: Remember Me?**

That was it. She had finally reached the point where she was so tired of being ignored by or else resigned to having bad sex with Edison that she was starting to imagine seeing Fitz in places where he was not. She was really, actually going crazy.

Olivia closed her eyes and counted to ten. She opened them.

He was still there.

She had barely a second to register that fact before there was a knock on her classroom door. Olivia jumped and dropped the Ollie notebook, her heart beating so fast it hurt.

The door was open—she always left it open when she was expecting parents to stop by. The knock on the door was just a formality, something to alert her to the fact that her visitor had arrived.

Olivia hesitated before raising her eyes. Her brown ones instantly met his, and her entire world stopped. They captured her, obliterated all rational thought, went straight through her and settled somewhere deep in her soul. They were just as she remembered. He held her gaze and they both just took in the sight of one another for Olivia wasn't sure how long.

_You gonna come for me, pretty girl?_

Olivia couldn't help it; she dropped her gaze and let her eyes roam over his body. He was all height and broad shoulders and tight muscles and _sex appeal_. Olivia immediately felt her body respond to his, her core warming up and melting deliciously at the sight of him. She was temporarily transported back to that dark room, her mind swirling with memories of fervent kisses and heated touches. _God_, she wanted so badly to do that again. There were nights when she thought that she would do anything to feel him again.

And here he was.

After a moment he let his hand drop from its place on the doorframe to rest by his side, and the movement somehow seemed to fix the short in Olivia's brain.

_Get up, you idiot. You're a teacher. You're a professional. Get up and introduce yourself. He probably doesn't even remember you. You're just a one-night stand, from over two years ago. He's here for Teddy, so put your mind back on teacher-mode._

She was simply one of what was probably many one-night stands who Fitz should have no reason to remember in particular. With that notion in mind, Olivia stood up from her desk with a pleasant smile. She ignored the ache between her thighs and made her way towards the man who she had longed for every day for two years.

"Mr. Grant?" she asked, extending her hand as she reached him.

"Yes," he took her small hand firmly in his own, and an adrenaline rush unlike anything Olivia had ever felt before shook her body. She had to fight to breathe as his blue eyes met hers again and the memory of the first time he'd taken her hand—as he led her across a dance floor to a dark and much more private closet—flashed to the front of her mind. He paused for what seemed like a few seconds too long, or was she just imagining it?

"Mrs. Davis," he said finally, shaking her hand before letting it go. Olivia ignored the completely irrational sense of loss she felt when he was no longer touching her, "It's nice to finally meet you. I'm sorry that it isn't under the best of circumstances. How are you?"

Everything about his tone stated one hundred percent professional. There was no hint of surprise or recognition. He didn't remember her. Olivia didn't know whether she was crushed or relieved, and she didn't have time to think about it.

"I'm fine," she responded automatically, all thoughts of the stressful day she'd had now pushed firmly towards the back of her mind. She gestured towards the circular table at the front of her classroom, the only table where the chairs had been left down in anticipation of her meeting, "Why don't you have a seat? You can hang your coat up on one of the hooks if you like. I just need to grab a few things from over here."

"Sure," Fitz said agreeably, and began taking his coat off as Olivia went back to her desk. She closed the Ollie notebook and picked up a stack of papers in the corner. They were mostly some of Teddy's recent tests and quizzes that she figured she might as well hand back to his father while he was here, but there was also a list of behavior incidents dating back to right before Thanksgiving. Olivia wasn't going to give Fitz a play-by-play of each and every incident, but she liked to create lists like this for reference. It helped keep her thoughts together, which was help that she was definitely going to need if she was going to be able to sit here and keep her cool through a parent-teacher conference with _Fitz_.

Fitz sat down in one of the chairs as Olivia made sure she had everything she needed, then went over to join him at the table.

"I just wanted to start by apologizing again for the delay in getting back to you," Fitz said as she smoothed her skirt and sat down, "It's my fault. I should have scheduled a separate meeting with you back in October when I realized I couldn't make the fall open house. I hope you weren't starting to think that I was deliberately ignoring you."

"Of course not," Olivia lied smoothly. That was exactly what she had been thinking, and to this very moment she still wasn't quite sure how Fitz had managed to not know that she had been calling and leaving messages for him for months now. But he sounded very sincere, and she couldn't help but believe that he felt bad about the lack of communication on his end. She wouldn't hold it against him, "Things happen to all of us, Mr. Grant, especially during the holiday season."

"Right," Fitz nodded and it seemed to Olivia that he wanted to say more on the subject, but he didn't, "Well, I'd like to hear everything that's been going on with Teddy from the beginning, if you don't mind."

Olivia agreed and launched into a retelling of Teddy's last few months in her class. She told Fitz about how Teddy's behavior seemed to be on a slow but consistent downward spiral, starting back in November with minor incidences of not listening or not following directions and escalating until he was regularly a handful to deal with in class. Teddy frequently interrupted lessons by speaking loudly and out of turn about something completely irrelevant, which often derailed the entire class. He liked to bother other students, particularly the girls, by intentionally doing something to annoy them like taking their belongings. There were instances where he stubbornly refused to do something so simple and basic as to zip up his coat before recess or putting his backpack away after lunch. And of course, there was the incident where he decided to open the classroom door and take off running down the hallway. Then today had been an awful day as well—Teddy had been whiney, irritable, and about halfway through reading time Olivia had had to pull him from the classroom because he would not be quiet. She left her student teacher in charge of the room while she tried to reason with Teddy in the hallway, but he was sullen and uncooperative and simply kept repeating that he hated reading time.

"And this all started happening towards the middle of November?" Fitz asked when she was finished. He had been attentive to everything Olivia had to say, and had asked just the right amount of questions while she was talking. He wasn't taking their conversation lightly.

"Yes," she confirmed, meeting his eye briefly before looking away. She knew it was unprofessional, but she could not hold eye contact with Fitz for more than a second without her thoughts scattering and her focus fizzling. He, on the other hand, appeared to be perfectly unaffected by her presence.

_I don't know what you were expecting. The man probably has affairs with women much hotter than you on a weekly basis. You're nothing special._

Olivia shook her head and silenced the thoughts running though her brain. She could analyze them later.

"Mrs. Davis, I want to apologize," Fitz said slowly. It seemed like he was deep in thought, trying to figure out the best way to verbalize what he was thinking, "There are a few changes going on at home for Teddy that I think you should know about. I didn't realize until now how much his behavior here was being affected—not that it's okay for him to misbehave, because it isn't, but I think that it might be helpful if you knew."

He paused for a moment, looking at her thoughtfully. Olivia ignored the butterflies in her stomach and nodded her head to show that she was listening.

"My wife and I haven't gotten along in years—"

_Of course they don't. He has drunken affairs in public places with strange women. _

"We separated in the fall, from the sounds of it, right around the time that Teddy started misbehaving in school," Fitz continued, "I moved out of the house and Teddy's been living with his mother ever since. I have every intention of filing for divorce and working out a custody agreement, although I was hoping to wait until his mother was being a little more…cooperative. We spoke to Teddy and his siblings before I moved out, and it seemed like he understood…it seemed like he was okay with it. I make sure I see him all the time—at least four nights a week, plus I come to every one of his baseball games and karate matches, and he spends the night at my apartment when his mother is feeling generous. It's been a big adjustment, but to be honest I really haven't seen any changes in his behavior at home so it didn't occur to me to check in at school. I apologize. I know now that I should have."

"It's okay," Olivia reassured him. Everything about Teddy's behavior made much more sense to her now, "That does explain a lot, but children handle divorce in many different ways. Some children act out at home and at school, others don't. It's not unreasonable that you wouldn't check in at school if you weren't seeing any changes at home."

"Okay," Fitz looked visibly relieved. Olivia could tell that he was still pretty upset with himself, but she believed that his intentions were good, "I'm going to talk to him when I get home and see if I can figure out what's upsetting him. And I'll talk to his mother to see if we can work out a more regular custody agreement."

"I think that's a great idea," Olivia said, "Children need a sense of regularity. It sounds like you're spending a lot of time with Teddy already, but I'm sure he misses having you at home and it might help for him to have a concrete sense of when he will and will not get to see you."

"Right," Fitz nodded, "And I'm going to make sure that he knows that his behavior here has been unacceptable. I'm thinking that he'll go on punishment at home—no TV or videogames—until you tell me that you're seeing consistent improvement in his behavior. And I'd like for us to remain in touch, Mrs. Davis. Maybe we can check in with each other once or twice a week?"

"Absolutely," Olivia agreed, her stomach fluttering at the thought of regularly being in contact with Fitz, "It seems like Teddy is a good kid who's just going through a rough patch. Usually when I have a student like this, who doesn't have any long-term emotional or anger management issues, all it takes is for him to know that you and I are communicating and that neither one of us will tolerate bad behavior. That usually clears the problem right up."

"I hope you're right."

"However, in the meantime," Olivia continued, "Another big part of the reason why I wanted to speak with you is that I would really appreciate it if someone could come along with Teddy as a chaperone on our field trip to the aquarium next Friday. Given that he's run away from the classroom in the past, I think it's necessary to ensure everyone's safety on the trip. I don't know what you or your wife's schedules look like, but it would also be okay if you wanted to send someone in your place—his babysitter, maybe, or a grandparent."

Fitz paused for a moment, looking deep in thought. Olivia tried not to let her mind wander with the break in conversation. She was mostly successful until he looked at her with those perfect blue eyes again. How was it possible that he was even more handsome in real life than he had been in her memories?

"I should be able to make it," he said finally, "I need to check in at work first, but I don't believe I have anything that day that can't be rescheduled. How about I shoot you an email tomorrow to confirm? If I can't make it then I'll definitely send his babysitter in my place, although I'd prefer to be there myself."

"Excellent," Olivia said happily, "I look forward to hearing from you tomorrow then."

"Definitely. Is there anything else you wanted to discuss?"

"No. I think that's everything," Olivia replied as they both stood up. She nearly stopped breathing again as Fitz's long body unfolded in front of her. He was so tall and muscular; he towered over her tiny frame. She wished she could step into his arms and curl her body around his. She wanted to let him surround her like he had on that one night so long ago.

"Alright. Well it was very nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Davis," Fitz said, extending his hand.

"Likewise, Mr. Grant," Olivia bit her lip as they shook hands and she got the same rush that she experienced every single time he touched her. She forced herself to look him in the eye and found that he was already watching her intently. Was he staring at her mouth? Shouldn't he be letting go of her hand by now?

"Please, call me Fitz."

Olivia took in a sharp breath as she automatically pictured the last time he requested that she call him by his first name—with his body pinned against hers, her back pressed to the wall, his fingers under her chin and his cock buried deep inside her as she spun out of control beneath him.

_I want to hear you scream my name when you come. It's Fitz. Say Fitz._

"I would prefer to address you professionally, Mr. Grant. Especially if you're going to be on the field trip with other students."

"Of course. Mr. Grant works just fine, too," Olivia watched him as he turned away from her to reach for his coat and put it on, "I'll double check my schedule and shoot you an email first thing when I get in tomorrow morning."

"Sounds good."

He turned to her, his coat on but hanging open. Olivia forced herself to look him in the eye and not admire his chest.

"And thank you for taking the time to meet with me, and for caring enough to call and leave so many messages for my wife. I'm sorry that she never returned them. I appreciate it. I really do."

"It's no trouble," Olivia murmured as they walked towards the door, "Enjoy the rest of your afternoon."

"Same to you, Mrs. Davis."

* * *

Olivia hung her coat and purse on the hook in the entryway and headed straight to the kitchen when she got home. It had been a long, _long_ day, and she still couldn't believe what had just happened. She thought that she would never see Fitz again, and for him to turn up as a parent to one of her second graders? It was literally the last thing she would have expected. His appearance had blown her away. She was amazed that she had actually managed to keep it together through an entire forty-five minute meeting with him.

Without pausing, Olivia went to the very back of the bottom shelf of the refrigerator and dug out an unopened bottle of her favorite red wine. Edison didn't like it when she drank, but he never cooked and only ever went into the refrigerator to grab whatever leftovers she had saved for him, so he never noticed when she kept a bottle of wine well-hidden in the back. Olivia poured herself a healthy portion of the dark liquid and gulped it down like it was only water before bracing her hands on the counter in front of her and bowing her head. She closed her eyes and took deep, steadying breaths.

It had been over an hour since he had left her classroom, but somehow she could still feel his presence. Her body was warm, humming with excitement as if he had caressed her skin with his large hands instead of just shaking her own. She wondered at the effect he had on her—she had always chalked it up to her being drunk, hurt, and lonely, but today she had been completely sober and he had still managed to turn her on with just a look. He was even more handsome than she remembered, as if that was even possible.

Olivia took deep breaths and tried to clear her mind, but it was impossible. Frustrated, she grabbed the bottle of wine off the counter and poured herself another healthy glass, resolving to at least drink it slower this time. She could just imagine the disapproving lecture she would get from Edison if he knew what she was doing. Olivia turned around and leaned her back against the counter, holding the glass with both hands, content to just stand there for the moment and get lost in her thoughts.

_He didn't even remember her_.

She had tried not to dwell on that until now. The brief encounter she'd had with him had been the most intense, passionate, incredible sex she'd ever experienced. She had never let herself get so out of control before, never fully succumbed to another human being the way she had succumbed to Fitz. He had made her feel so appreciated, so beautiful. She thought about him all the time. She _craved_ him all the time. She could hardly even stand to have sex with her own husband unless she closed her eyes and imagined Fitz. And Fitz didn't even remember her.

It hurt. Olivia closed her eyes and took a giant swallow of wine, trying to shake the feeling. She had known all along that he probably wouldn't remember her—to be honest, it would be surprising if he did—but at least until now she had been able to hold out hope that maybe, just maybe, their encounter had affected him as much as it had affected her. But it hadn't, and the fact that Olivia had been expecting just that didn't make it hurt any less. She just wasn't one of those women who could knock a man's world off its axis—Abby had done so for David and Quinn captivated Charlie, but Edison couldn't even be bothered to say good morning to Olivia, and Fitz…in the two years that she'd been obsessing over him, Fitz had forgotten all about her.

He was married. He had a wife and at least two or three kids—she wasn't sure exactly how many siblings Teddy had, but she didn't think that they were students at Fort Hill Elementary. Olivia had been nothing more than a slutty girl to Fitz, another one-night stand for him to add to his collection. She wasn't anything special to him, she wasn't—as he had said so many times that night—the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He had probably gone out that night looking for sex, looking for the first easy girl who would fall for his lines. No wonder he and his wife were getting a divorce.

Olivia finished off her second glass and poured herself a third, just starting to feel the beginnings of a buzz. She contemplated bringing the bottle upstairs with her. She could draw herself a bubble bath, light some vanilla candles, maybe play some soft music…It was her favorite way to soothe her nerves, but she didn't move just yet. If she took a bath she would only spend it fantasizing about him, yearning for the way he made her feel. There had been a dull, throbbing ache between her thighs ever since he appeared in her doorway. She was restless, unhappy. She wished there was someone she could talk to.

She could call Abby or Quinn. They were usually her first and second go-to people when it came to problems with Edison, but somehow she had never been able to bring herself to tell them about Fitz. She didn't necessarily think that they would disapprove—they weren't the biggest fans of Edison, to say the least—but she knew that they would be shocked if she told them. It was so out of character for her to cheat on Edison. And that's what they would call it, _cheating_. The word made Olivia cringe. She knew that it was 100% accurate—especially in light of the revelation that Fitz couldn't even identify her in a line up—but somehow, even now, it didn't feel like she had cheated. Cheating was wrong and her tryst with Fitz had felt so right. They were so in sync, so connected in every way. She and Edison were never like that. If anything, it was being with Edison that felt wrong.

She could call Harrison. She had alluded to him once, vaguely, when it was just the two of them hanging out with a bottle of whiskey, that she had cheated on Edison. He had picked up on it and tried to question her about it that night and again the next day. She had evaded his questions and refused to say anything more, but she knew that he was suspicious from then on. She could confess everything to him, just for the sake of not having to keep it all bottled in. Maybe he could tell her what to do about Fitz. She had managed to keep it together for forty-five minutes today, but she was going to be communicating with him once or twice a week from now on and she wasn't sure if she could handle that. _And_, he was most likely coming on their class field trip. How in the world was she going to survive an entire day with him in front of her second graders?

Olivia was two seconds away from reaching for her phone to call Harrison when Edison's voice made her jump.

"Olivia?"

She had been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn't even heard him come down the stairs, and she didn't have time to hide her glass of wine before he entered the kitchen in a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. It hadn't occurred to her to check and see if he was home yet because he so rarely got home before she did.

"Edison!" she exclaimed, "You scared me. I didn't know you were here."

"I thought I heard you come in. What are you doing down here—is that _wine_?" his eyes narrowed critically at her.

"Yes," Olivia said, raising her chin defensively. She was a grown woman and she could have a glass—or two, or three, or an entire bottle—of wine after work if she wanted to.

"I thought you didn't drink anymore, Liv."

"I drink sometimes," Olivia said, defiantly taking a sip. She wanted to laugh at the look of extreme disapproval on his face, "It's a glass of wine, Edison. I'm not snorting cocaine."

"You know how I feel about you drinking, Olivia."

"Spare me the lecture, Edison," Olivia rolled her eyes in annoyance. The very last thing she wanted to do was be subjected to another rant on how she was supposed to behave as the wife of the C.O.O. of a major international corporation. She was _not_ in the mood, "I've had a long day and it's just one glass. What are you doing here, anyway? It's barely five o'clock. Surely there's more work to be done at Davis Corp?"

"I started to get a migraine this morning so I decided to come home early and take some meds. I have a big conference call with Rio tomorrow—we're trying to get a head start on the 2016 Summer Olympics, and I need to be on top of my game," Edison explained.

"Oh," Olivia felt a smidgen of sympathy for him. Every now and then he would get a crippling migraine and he wasn't able to do anything but lay in bed with a damp washcloth over his forehead. Sometimes they lasted for days, but if he took his medicine early enough, they usually didn't last more than a couple of hours, "Are you feeling better now?"

"Slightly," Edison said, heading towards the sink to fill a glass with water, "And why are you so late getting home? School ends at 3:00. Where have you been all this time?"

"School ends at 3:20," Olivia corrected, unsure why he cared what she was doing with her afternoon when normally he wouldn't even be home to notice her absence. She took another sip of wine, mostly to annoy him, "And I met with a parent at 4:00. We talked for about forty-five minutes, and I stuck around to do some grading after he left."

"_He_?" Edison asked, narrowing his eyes at her once again.

"Yes, Edison," Olivia rolled her eyes. Edison had an unpredictable and irrational jealous streak that drove her crazy. Some days he couldn't be bothered to know where she was, other days he would get mad if she so much as spoke to the mailman, "Being a teacher I am required to communicate with both moms and _dads_."

"Where was the mother? Shouldn't she be the one dealing with the children anyway?"

"They're divorced," Olivia said, choosing to ignore the chauvinistic comment as she took another sip of wine.

"Hmph."

Edison didn't seem too happy with that answer, but he didn't say anything else. Olivia watched as he chugged his water and poured himself another glass, then downed it in the same fashion. She wished that, just once, he would ask her how her day went instead of accusing her of doing God-knows-what between the hours of 3:20 and 6:15.

"Do we have all the ingredients for lasagna in the fridge?" he asked suddenly.

"I think so."

"Good. That's what I want for dinner tonight."

Olivia frowned. She would have laughed if she didn't know that Edison was being serious.

"I wasn't planning on making anything big, Edison. I was thinking maybe pasta or soup—"

"Soup?" Edison interrupted, wrinkling his nose, "Come on, Liv. Soup is an appetizer. It won't fill a man like me."

"Well then maybe you should order," Olivia suggested. Cooking a big meal was the very last thing she felt like doing right now. Her day had been long and stressful. All she wanted to do was take a nice bubble bath and then curl up in bed with a book or maybe the television.

"What? I can order anytime. I need my wife to make me a nice, home cooked meal right about now. And maybe a massage, after, to help with my migraine."

Olivia sighed. She could tell by Edison's tone that she had two choices; she could spend an hour baking lasagna for him, or she could spend an hour arguing with him. Either way, she probably wasn't getting her bubble bath anytime soon.

"Fine," Olivia snatched the bottle of wine and poured the rest of its contents into her glass, "I'll cook dinner, but no massage. And I'm keeping the wine."

* * *

"Aren't you going to eat?" Edison asked an hour later, digging into the plate of lasagna and bread rolls Olivia had placed in front of him seconds before without so much as a 'thank you.' Olivia sat across from him, watching him without a plate of her own, annoyance written all over her face. She shook her head at his question.

"I'm not hungry," she said. It was mostly true. She hadn't been all that hungry to start with, and she had taken a few bites of the finished lasagna as it came out of the oven. She would probably get hungry later, but for now she didn't feel like eating anything.

"Eat, Olivia," it was clear that Edison was giving her a command, not making a suggestion, "You've had a lot of wine."

She had, and she was definitely a little tipsy, but that meant nothing.

"No."

"You're going to be sick. You've always had a problem controlling your drinking."

Olivia rolled her eyes. He was so dramatic. She had gone overboard with Abby a few times in college—as any normal college girl would—and to this day he referred to it as her drinking problem.

Olivia didn't respond, and Edison glared at her for a couple of moments before he dropped the subject and went back to his food.

Olivia sighed and wondered how she had managed to end up with a husband who was so oblivious or else indifferent to her unhappiness. She wasn't sure which was worse—when he was gone for weeks at a time without so much as a phone call or when he was home but demanding and, sometimes, downright mean. Olivia didn't always let him walk all over her. She preferred to pick her battles, and cooking him dinner tonight was one that wasn't worth the stress.

Olivia's phone beeped, signaling that she had a text message. She glanced at it, and the words on the screen made her heart pound.

_Hello Mrs. Davis, just wanted to let you know that I've cleared my schedule for Friday the 31__st__. I'm all set to chaperone on the field trip. I'll shoot you an email tomorrow unless I hear from you tonight. Have a nice evening._

So that was it. Olivia was going to have to spend an entire day with him. She had no idea how she was going to make it through.

"Who is that?" Edison asked as she picked up the phone to respond.

_Thanks for letting me know, Mr. Grant. We will see you then!_

"A parent," she murmured as she typed.

"A parent? The parent you met with this afternoon? What is _he_ doing texting you?"

"He wanted to let me know that he can chaperone our field trip."

"Hmph," Edison turned back to his food.

They were silent for a few moments. Olivia was once more thinking about Fitz. She'd never really stopped thinking about him, actually.

"So are you just going to sit there and glare this whole time?" Edison asked finally.

Olivia shrugged and didn't respond.

"Why don't you come over here and rub my shoulders, then. You know how massages help with the migraines."

Olivia narrowed her eyes at him. _That_ was something that she was definitely _not_ doing, and Edison could get mad all he wanted. A small part of her hoped it would make his migraine worse.

"Don't look at me like that, Liv. Come on."

"I'm going upstairs," Olivia announced, standing up, "There are only a few dishes left. Make sure you throw them in the dishwasher when you finish."

"Olivia, why can't you just—"

"Stop talking to me, Edison," Olivia was so, so tired of hearing his voice. Wishing she had another bottle of wine, she turned her back on her husband—who was yelling something at her now—and left the room. She had every intention of taking that nice bubble bath. She would soak in the tub, let herself fantasize about Fitz for an hour, and then crawl into bed.

* * *

Fitz sat in his car for a long time after his meeting with Olivia, his mind still processing what had just happened.

Olivia. She was Olivia. Olivia Davis was _the_ Olivia.

It had been two years since the last time he'd seen her, and he'd spent every single day of it dreaming about her. Something about her had lit him on fire, made him lose control and do wicked, forbidden things to her until they each came apart in one another's arms. He would never forget a single detail about her—not how it felt to have her full, pliant lips pressed against his or how her soft curves moved in tandem with his own body. He would forever remember the way that she clung to him, her fingernails scoring the skin of his neck, her legs tight around his waist, her body trembling as she came around him, his name dripping from her lips like a prayer. His own orgasm had been powerful, soul sucking, intense. He had never experienced anything like it before, and was sure that he would never experience it again unless he found this woman, this Olivia who had shown up and shaken up his world so forcefully before she vanished as quickly and magically as she'd appeared. Never in a million years had he thought that he would be lucky enough to meet her again.

And now, here she was. His son's teacher. _The _Olivia.

He should have known. Her voice had sounded vaguely familiar when they spoke over the phone. He had only known her first name, but it had been listed all over Teddy's permission slip. He should have been able to figure it out.

But still, Fitz doubted that anything could have prepared him for the sight that greeted him when he stepped into the doorway of Teddy's classroom. She was sitting at her desk, head bowed as she read what appeared to be the Ollie notebook. She didn't immediately notice his presence and he couldn't see much of her face, but he would know that petite frame and those soft curls anywhere. He wasn't sure how long he stood in that doorway watching her, his heart beating rapidly in his chest, before it occurred to him that she could look up at any moment to find him staring at her—and she probably wouldn't appreciate it. So he took a deep breath and knocked on the door, completely unsure of what he would do or say once he caught her attention.

Her eyes met his, and he _knew_. She remembered. Her chocolate brown eyes were just as beautiful, just as expressive as they were in his memories, and he could see the look of recognition reflected in them as they stared at each other for far longer than was normal for a teacher greeting a parent. Her gaze had turned hot as her eyes moved downward, roaming his body like it was something delectable. He shifted in the doorway and he was just about to call her by her first name and say something—he wasn't sure what—but _something _to let her know that he had been thinking about her for approximately the last seven hundred and sixty-one days, that she was far more gorgeous now than in his dreams, that he would happily give his right arm if it meant that he could spend some time getting to know her. But then it was like a switch flipped in her brain. The look of recognition was replaced by one of complete professionalism as she stood, referred to him as 'Mr. Grant,' and welcomed him to her classroom like he was just another man in her world.

He followed her lead. Never mind the rush of adrenaline that left him feeling almost light headed when her hand touched his.

After all, if her title was any indication, _Mrs. _Olivia Davis was a married woman. And, unlike Fitz's, her marriage was probably a very happy one. She probably had a husband waiting for her at home who adored her, who took care of her every need—Fitz couldn't see how any man that was lucky enough to be married to this amazing creature would be capable of leaving her wanting for anything. She probably loved her husband. He was probably the center of her world. Surely she hadn't spent the last two years infatuated with some insignificant one-night stand when she had someone else in her life. She had moved on.

Which was what Fitz needed to do. She was his son's teacher. Outside of family, she was the most important adult in Teddy's life right now. If she wanted to keep things professional, then Fitz would try his hardest to do the same. The last thing he wanted to be was the lonely, creepy, middle-aged man who made unwanted advances on his son's second grade teacher.

And so, he didn't give her any indication that he had been dying to find her for the last two years.

Their meeting went as well as could be expected. He kept having to remind himself not to stare, kept having to resist the urge to reach out and caress the soft skin of her cheek, but overall he thought he managed to keep himself together pretty well. It helped that he was genuinely interested in every word that she had to say about Teddy. It was obvious now that he should have been checking in with her consistently, especially after his separation from Mellie—the things she was telling him shed a completely different light on how Teddy was handling the change, and Fitz knew that he needed to further address it. He was grateful that Olivia didn't seem to hold the lack of communication on his end against him.

She called him 'Mr. Grant,' all throughout their meeting, and it irked him. He wanted to hear his first name, not his formal name, coming from her perfect lips. More specifically, he wanted to hear her moan his first name with her face buried in his shoulder as her orgasm rocked her like she had the last time they'd met. He doubted he would get that far, but he couldn't resist requesting that he call her Fitz before he left. He couldn't blame her when she declined.

He was so overwhelmed from seeing her that he just sat in his car for ten minutes after the meeting before he started to drive. His mind was racing with thoughts of her, and even though he'd been on his best behavior his body still burned like he had touched her, like he had grabbed her tiny waist and pulled her flush against him. Professional was the last thing he wanted to be with her. He'd always thought that if he saw her again, he would pursue her. He would charm and flirt and persuade his way into a date with her, especially now that he was separated from Mellie. It had never crossed his mind that he would meet her in a professional setting, that she would be the teacher of his seven-year-old child.

Not to mention that she was married. If she had turned out to be Teddy's single and available teacher, Fitz could have always been patient until June before he asked her out. But she was unavailable. That was what hurt most of all. Whoever her husband was, he was a lucky, lucky man.

But at least now Fitz had her information. He actually had her cell phone number stored in his phone and her email address was in his contacts list. He knew who she was, her last name, where she worked. In fact, they would be communicating regularly, something he was happy about even if it was only going to be about Teddy. It was better than not having a reason to communicate with her at all.

As for the field trip, he figured the one hundred and forty children around them would help him resist the urge to whisk her away and make out with her. He just had to make sure to clear his schedule that day, but it shouldn't be hard. He only taught one class on Fridays, and he was sure his overeager teaching assistant would be delighted to fill in for him. He could cancel his usual office hours that day or hold them earlier in the week. Then he would be free to spend the entire day in the presence of the beautiful Olivia Davis, even if he would have to behave himself.

Fitz whipped out his cell phone to call Mellie as he finally gained the will to turn on the ignition and pull out of his parking space. She didn't answer, which he should've predicted, but he figured that it was worth a shot. They definitely needed to talk. They needed to agree on a punishment for Teddy until his behavior in school improved—or rather, Fitz had to suggest a punishment and Mellie needed to agree to have his babysitter enforce it while Teddy was at her house. And more importantly, Mellie needed to know that Fitz was planning to get the ball rolling on their divorce. The whole separation idea was stupid; Fitz had no intention of ever going back to Mellie. They didn't love each other. They didn't get along. They could hardly even stand to be in the same room as one another. Fitz had only agreed to a separation period in the first place because he figured he owed it to Mellie for spending the last two years of their marriage with his head caught up in fantasies of another woman. But now it was over. They needed to work out a custody arrangement, and fast, for Teddy's sake.

* * *

**AN: Olivia thinks that Fitz doesn't remember her? Whaaaat? How freakin ridiculous is that? Well, it seems ridiculous to us. I guess if I were poor Liv I would feel the same. Edison's a douche, isn't he? I hope his head explodes. But hey, Fitz is coming on the field trip! I wonder what kind of nonsense these two are gonna get themselves into…**

**THREE DAYS TIL SCANDAL IS BACK. F*CK YES PEOPLE. WE HAVE OVERCOME. **


	5. Knock, Knock

**AN: First and foremost, Happy Scandalday everyone! I'm sorry it took me so long to post this chapter. I ended up having to get an emergency wisdom tooth extraction last Thursday, on February 27****th**** of all days. My first concern when they told me they needed to give me the anesthesia was (as it should be) whether or not I'd be back in my right mind in time to watch Scandal. Anywho, I was out of commission for a few days due to the worst fucking pain ever, but all of the reviews/follows/favorites you guys kept sending my way really cheered me up last weekend! You guys are freakin' great. And the moral of the story is: when the dentist tells you at age 17 to get your wisdom teeth pulled, don't be like ehh no thanks and proceed to not see a dentist again for another like 7 years. Trust me, not fun when it catches up to you. Also, expensive. **

**And now, we jump forward a week or so to January 31****st****. It's field trip day, and also the birthday of our girl Liv (which I made the same as Kerry Washington's bday because why not). Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 4: Knock, knock.**

Olivia had been sleeping peacefully for almost two hours before the ringing of her cell phone jarred her awake.

Grumbling unhappily, she reached towards the nightstand and pressed blindly on her phone in several places. She sighed in relief when the shrill noise stopped and brought the phone to her ear.

"Hello?" somewhere in the back of her mind she felt that the bed next to her was cold and empty. Edison was not home.

"Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear—"

"Mnph," Olivia grunted in displeasure halfway through Harrison's boisterous rendition of 'Happy Birthday,' and moved the phone several inches away from her ear.

"Li-iiiiv! Happy birthdayyyyyyyyy toooooooo youuuuuuuuu!" Harrison finished up cheerfully, "Woohoo! Wake up, Liv! It's the last birthday of your twenties! Don't tell me you're sleeping!"

"Is it January 31st already?" Olivia mumbled sleepily.

"Course it is. It's midnight on the dot, Liv! You know I'm never late."

Olivia smiled as she began to wake up a little. When they were in high school, she and Harrison had begun the long-standing tradition of calling each other promptly at midnight on their birthdays to sing 'Happy Birthday,' as loudly and obnoxiously as they possibly could over the phone. They had been carrying on with the tradition for fourteen years now and, even though Olivia had been asleep, she wouldn't want to start her birthday any other way.

"You're _never _late. You're the best, Harrison."

"Now wake up! Time to party! When did you get so boring? Five years ago you would've been halfway to hammered by the time I called."

"Five years ago I wasn't an elementary school teacher," Olivia reminded him, "I need all the sleep I can get to deal with those little crazies. _Especially_ since we have our field trip tomorrow."

"Oh, right. Quinn told me about that," Harrison said, "But come on, you mean to tell me that Edison Davis isn't up for giving you a little midnight birthday nookie?"

"Ha!" Olivia genuinely laughed. Edison? Wake up at midnight for a little spontaneous birthday loving? It was the last thing Olivia expected from him, "Edison hasn't touched me in weeks, Harrison…Not to mention that he's not even here right now."

Olivia cast a weary eye over at his side of the bed as the fact that Edison wasn't home fully registered with her conscious brain. He wasn't home when she went to bed, which wasn't all that unusual, but even on his latest nights at work he was usually home by midnight.

"What? Where did he go?" Harrison asked, "I thought you were going to some work party or something with him tonight."

"I am," Olivia answered, "He's not out of town, he's just not _here_. He must still be at work, I don't know…"

"What? On your birthday?" Harrison's tone was laced with disapproval. Like Abby and Quinn, Harrison wasn't exactly a big fan of Edison, "He should be there with you, Liv, I don't care what—"

"I know, Harrison," Olivia interrupted darkly. Harrison was about to launch into another one of his speeches in which he insisted that she deserved better than Edison. She didn't want to hear it, at least not right now.

"Sorry," Harrison apologized quickly, "It's your birthday. Let's stay positive here. So what's it feel like to be old?"

"Shut up, Harrison," Olivia giggled, "You're only four months behind me. You'll be twenty-nine in no time."

"Yeah, but Harrison stays young and unattached forever."

"Did you just refer to yourself in the third person?"

"Yes. Ain't no shame in my game, Liv."

"_Lame_!" Olivia laughed again.

"You're jealous."

"Whatever, Harrison."

"Right well, I'll let you get back to sleep since you're an old woman and you gotta catch up on those zzz's."

"We have a _field trip _tomorrow. There's no way I'll survive if I'm not well rested."

"Yeah, yeah. We still on for celebrating on Saturday night?"

"Yep."

"Okay, I'll hit you up later today then. And hey," Harrison turned serious, "I hope you have a fantastic day. Don't let the little buggers stress you out too much. Sucker punch one if you have to, okay? It's your day."

"I can't sucker punch a child," Olivia giggled again, "But thanks, Harrison. I love you too."

"Goodnight, Liv."

"Goodnight."

Olivia hung up the phone with a smile on her face. She loved her birthday calls from Harrison, and part of her wished she was six or seven years younger—partying it up with Abby and Quinn regardless of the fact that it was a weeknight. She was twenty-nine. When had she gotten so old? And so married? Olivia shook her head and her smile slipped a little as she once again glanced over at Edison's side of the bed. She checked her phone to see if he'd sent her any texts saying that he was going to be late. He hadn't. Sighing, she decided to call his cell to check up on him.

"Hello?" he answered on the third ring.

"Hi Edison."

"Liv?"

"Yes, it's me."

"What are you doing awake? It's past midnight. It's awfully late for you."

Olivia frowned when he acknowledged the fact that it was past midnight but did not acknowledge the fact that it was January 31st. Typical Edison. If only she could've married a man who was more like Harrison.

"Nothing I just…" Olivia was about to tell him that Harrison had called, but stopped herself. If she mentioned Harrison, Edison either wouldn't remember that it was her birthday and get jealous, or he would remember that it was her birthday and he would immediately bombard her with insincere happy birthday remarks. Olivia wanted him to remember on his own, not because she reminded him, "I just woke up and realized you weren't here and I just wanted to make sure everything is okay. You're usually home by now."

"Everything's fine," Edison said, but he sounded tense, "It's just that I have a lot to get finished before I leave on Sunday. I won't be able to stay late tomorrow because of the party so I had to get most of it done tonight. But I'm on my way home now. I should be there in about ten minutes."

"Okay. So you're definitely leaving on Sunday now?" Olivia asked. He had told her before that he would be going back to Sochi sometime between Sunday and Tuesday morning, but at the time he hadn't known for sure.

"Yeah, Sunday night."

"Do you know when you come back?"

"No. I probably won't know that for awhile."

"Okay. Make sure to let me know when you find out," Olivia reminded him.

"Sure. Go back to sleep, Liv. I'll be home in a few minutes. I need you well-rested and beautiful for the kickoff party tomorrow night."

"Okay," Olivia said reluctantly. She really had nothing else to say to Edison, but it would be nice if he remembered that it was now her birthday. Maybe she should just remind him, after all. "You're still going to take me to dinner before the party, right? You promised me grilled salmon."

"Of course," Edison said, "A special birthday dinner for my special birthday girl…Happy birthday, by the way. I just realized that it's January 31st now."

Olivia smiled faintly.

"I'll pick you up at six," he continued, "I have a six-thirty reservation for your favorite place. I figured that gives us plenty of time to eat and have dessert before we have to be at the party, sound good?"

"Yes," Olivia said. She was actually looking forward to a nice dinner alone with Edison. They didn't go out together often, and it would be nice to have his undivided attention for a change. She just hated that she would have to go to his work party afterward.

"Good. Now go to sleep. I'll be home in a couple of minutes."

* * *

Olivia woke up the next morning to the feel of Edison's weight dipping the bed next to her. He was sitting on her edge of the bed, fully dressed, caressing her cheek gently until she opened her eyes.

"Mmm?" she asked sleepily, "What time is it?"

"Six-thirty," he answered, "I think your alarm is going to go off soon. I'm off to work but I wanted to give you this first."

He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss against her lips. Olivia smiled.

"Happy birthday, Liv."

"You're sweet, Edison."

"Have a good day today, okay? And make sure you're ready to go right at six. I wanna make sure I have plenty of time to spoil my lovely wife."

Olivia got out of bed soon after Edison left. She had already decided on wearing her favorite gray dress with a black waist-cinching belt that day, along with nude tights and a pair of black Steve Madden mid-calf boots. Normally she would wear heels or flats to work, but it was a field trip day and she figured she could afford to be a little more comfortable. She made sure her hair and makeup were flawless, as usual. She eyed herself in the mirror before leaving for work and smiled. She looked good. Professional, yet her outfit highlighted her curves perfectly while keeping them well-covered. She tried to convince herself that she wanted to look extra good for her birthday—it was the last one of her twenties, after all—but deep down she knew that she was dressing up for an even bigger reason.

Fitz.

She had emailed him at least a dozen times and seen him twice since their parent-teacher conference two weeks ago. He had come in two times last week to pick Teddy up after school instead of his usual babysitter, and both times he hadn't given Olivia any indication that he recognized her as anything other than Teddy's teacher. Still, Olivia couldn't help the butterflies that formed in her stomach whenever she saw him, and sometimes she thought that maybe she detected a hint of lust in his gaze when he looked at her. She was probably imagining it, but she hoped she wasn't. She _liked_ it. As much as she tried not to think of him, her nighttime dreams and daytime fantasies of him were stronger and more frequent now than ever before. She couldn't help it. And while it stung that he didn't remember her, but she still wanted him to at least notice her. Which was why she was wearing her favorite and most flattering school-appropriate outfit.

She tried not to think about the fact that Fitz made her feel like she was in high school; she was the invisible, dorky nerd girl, and he was the class stud who couldn't be bothered to remember who she was but who she secretly harbored a crush on nevertheless. Because, inappropriate as it might be, Olivia was definitely crushing on Fitz. Hard. Yet he had no memory of their one night together.

And today she would be spending the whole day with him.

Olivia still had a couple of things she needed to take care of before the field trip, so she arrived at work fairly early. There would be several other parents chaperoning the trip aside from Fitz, so she had laminated nametags for each student the day before. She just needed to cut them and get together the penguin projects her class had been working on for the marine biologists at the aquarium.

Olivia worked quietly in her classroom for nearly half an hour before a male voice sounded in the doorway.

"Knock, knock."

Startled, Olivia dropped the penguin flag she was holding onto her desk and glanced towards the door. It was Fitz. Of course it was Fitz. She had known that it would be him purely from the flush that instantly made its way through her traitorous body at the sound of his voice. Her body always reacted to his presence so quickly. It was like she somehow knew he was there physically before her brain even had time to realize it.

He was standing in her doorway much like he had the last time he'd met her in the classroom, this time dressed in a pair of slacks and a forest green sweater. His curly hair was slicked back and a coat hung over his right arm. He looked and smelled amazing. He always did. Why wasn't she used to it by now?

"Mr. Grant," she greeted politely. His bright eyes caught her own and once again they held her gaze for what seemed like a moment too long, but she could never tell. Then he broke the connection and Olivia watched as his eyes roamed slowly down her body, taking in her every curve, before returning to focus on her face. Olivia nearly stopped breathing. Was she imagining this? She must be imagining it. It had happened so fast, she just couldn't be sure.

"Mrs. Davis…Hi."

"Hi," Olivia temporarily couldn't remember a single other word in the English language as he continued to look at her intently—was that _lustfully?_—for a moment before he seemed to realize what he was doing.

"I'm sorry, am I too early?" he asked, taking a step into the classroom, "I can come back later. I've been meaning to stop by Mr. Beene's office for awhile anyway, I can go do that now if you're busy."

_Yes._ Mr. Beene's office. He should definitely go do that now. Olivia glanced at the clock and saw that it was only 8:40. She normally didn't make her way down to the cafeteria to pick up her class until 9:00. She shouldn't let herself be alone in a classroom with Fitzgerald Grant for twenty minutes.

"No, you're fine," her eyes widened as she realized that she was saying the exact opposite of what she was thinking, but she couldn't make herself stop talking, "I mean, we still have twenty minutes until I go pick up the kids but you can stay if you'd like. I was just finishing up some last minute things before the trip, and we have two other parents from this class who should be coming in soon."

"Okay," Fitz confidently strode across her classroom and hung his coat up on an extra hook. Olivia followed his every movement with her eyes, utterly fascinated with the way his body rippled underneath his clothing. "What are you working on? Do you need a hand?"

"Um, sure," Olivia glanced around her classroom, taking note of all the things she still needed to do, "Do you want to bleach the tables for me? I usually wipe them down every afternoon and every morning, especially now that we're in the middle of cold and flu season."

"Of course," Fitz said cheerfully, "I'm here to help today. I'll do whatever you want, so just put me to work, Mrs. Davis."

A vision the two of them tangled in bed together, his hips pinning hers to the mattress as he slid inside of her, briefly flashed through Olivia's mind. She managed to bite back an _extremely_ inappropriate comment about the exact manner in which she would very much like to put him to work as she took the spray bottle full of bleach off of one of the high shelves in the closet and handed it to him.

"Where's Teddy?" Olivia asked as he began to wipe down the children's desks. She returned to her own desk and resumed the task of folding the penguin flag so it would fit inside her tote bag. She willed herself not to glance up at Fitz as she talked. The man practically made her salivate.

"His mother is dropping him off," Fitz replied, "He's staying with her until tomorrow night."

"Right," Olivia said with a nod. She had sort of known that would be the answer, but she had asked anyway in order to keep the conversation going and to keep herself from getting lost in her fantasies of Fitz once again. Fitz had told her before that after their parent-teacher conference he had come up with a temporary custody agreement with his wife, or ex-wife, or whatever she was. They would each take Teddy every other week, switching custody on Saturdays. Last week had been Fitz's first week, and this week was Mellie's. Fitz had also mentioned that he and Teddy had had a long talk about everything from his separation from Mellie to Teddy's behavior at school, and Olivia was pleased to see that in the two weeks it had been since she first met with Fitz, Teddy's behavior was showing signs of steady improvement.

"I trust he's still doing okay this week?" Fitz asked. Olivia hadn't given him any updates on Teddy since Tuesday.

"He's doing great," Olivia assured him, "He's still improving. He was actually a really big help when we made the penguin flag."

"Penguin flag?"

"Yes," Olivia held up the four by four foot flag she was working on so he could see it. It was a big piece of red felt with the words 'Mrs. Davis's Class, Grade 2,' above images of felt penguins, igloos, and snowflakes that her kids had designed and cut out themselves. "We made this flag in class this week. I gave the kids pieces of different colored felt so that they could cut out the shapes and then I hot glued them in place. There's a penguin station in Antarctica where elementary schools can send their penguin flag, and the scientists there fly it on their flagpole for a day. They take a picture of it with the penguins in the background and mail it to us. The kids always think it's really cool to see their flag flying with the penguins in Antarctica. And this year we're going to take a picture of the class holding it in front of the penguins at the aquarium to send along to the scientists in Antarctica."

"Wow, that's pretty cool," Fitz remarked. Olivia pointed to one of the many felt penguins ice-skating on what resembled a felt pond.

"I think this one is Teddy's. He worked really hard on it. And he did a great job helping me figure out where to place everything."

"Yeah, he loves the penguin stuff you guys are doing," Fitz said, "He's been talking about penguins nonstop since Christmas. I told him that if he keeps doing well in school then next week we can watch that movie he wants to see so much…what is it called? I think Mr. Popper's Penguins?"

"Mr. Popper's Penguins," Olivia said with a nod. She knew that movie well, "The kids love that movie. I had no idea Teddy was enjoying the penguin unit so much. I'll have to see if I can dig up any more books about penguins for him to read."

"He would like that," Fitz glanced up from spraying the tables long enough to give her a warm smile. Olivia's heart skipped and she couldn't help but smile back, "I appreciate everything you do for him. I know it must be hard with all those kids in one classroom but you're an amazing teacher."

Olivia blushed and looked down.

"I'm just doing my job," she murmured, tracing the edge of the flag with her index finger. They were both silent for few moments, Fitz still spraying down the tables, until Olivia spoke again, "Why do you need to meet with Mr. Beene?"

"What?"

"You mentioned earlier that you wanted to stop by Mr. Beene's office. I was just wondering what you wanted to speak to him about. If you don't mind my asking," Olivia added the last part hastily, suddenly realizing that she was being nosy. She didn't mean to get involved in Fitz's business. She was mostly just curious. Parents rarely ever asked to meet with Mr. Beene, especially without the recommendation from their child's teacher.

"Oh, I just wanted to ask him a couple of questions about how he likes being the principal here at Fort Hill," Fitz said. At Olivia's furrowed eyebrows, he continued, "When I'm not teaching law courses at Georgetown, I'm actually enrolled in an Educational Administration program. I'd like to be a school principal myself one day, although I'm sure I'll have to start a little lower on the administrative totem poll first. And once I gain enough experience in the field I'd really like to get involved in creating new schools, especially charter schools in urban neighborhoods."

"Wow," Olivia said, impressed, "I thought you were a lawyer?"

"I _was_ a lawyer. I quit, three years ago," Fitz explained, "I took up the teaching position at Georgetown because I wanted to be able to spend more time with Teddy. My older two children went to boarding schools and I…I wish they hadn't. They loved it, of course, and they came home every weekend when they were in elementary school but I missed them. A lot. So I told Mellie we were keeping Teddy here and that I would get more personally involved in his education. And as I was researching what was best for Teddy I realized that I was really interested in what I was learning. So, here I am."

Olivia smiled. She could hear the sincerity in his voice, and there was a trace of something else…sadness…when he spoke about his two older children. She could see that it had been hard on him as a father to not see them every day, but he had realized the error of his ways and changed for Teddy, given up his whole career for Teddy, and Olivia admired him for it. She often wondered if Edison was going to slow down for their children—_if _they even had any children. Would he give up the business trips and the long nights at the office for their family? Would he miss their children enough to call when he was away? Would he make it to dance recitals? Soccer games? Graduations? Olivia wished that he would. She had told him many, many times that she did not want to start a family with him until he eased up on his work schedule, but he never seemed to truly hear what she was saying and somehow she couldn't see their children being a priority for him.

"So you're all done with law? For good?" Olivia asked curiously. Fitz nodded.

"Yes ma'am. Unless we're talking educational law. That's something I could get into, I suppose…" Fitz stopped talking and looked deep in thought for a few moments, then shook his head as if to clear it, "But anyway, I spoke to Mr. Beene a few times last year. He seems like a great guy. I was just hoping that I could set up a time to pick his brain again sometime soon."

"Mr. Beene is an _excellent_ principal," Olivia said approvingly, "He's good to his teachers, he follows through with his responsibilities, he knows how to stand up for Fort Hill down at the superintendent's office…Did you know he used to be a professor at Georgetown himself? I was one of his students."

"You went to Georgetown?" Fitz asked, surprised.

"I did," Olivia confirmed, "Cyrus—I mean, Mr. Beene—was one of my favorite professors. Now we're good friends. He likes to come over and drink all my good wine when he's mad at his husband and my husband is away."

Fitz paused briefly, and although he was looking down at the table in front of him and not directly at Olivia, she thought she saw his expression darken the second the words 'my husband,' left her lips. She didn't have time to dwell on it, though, because Quinn chose that exact moment to breeze into the classroom carrying a drink tray with two coffees.

"Good morning, birthday girl!" she exclaimed cheerfully, making her way towards Olivia's desk without noticing Fitz, "How does it feel to be the big two-nine? I got you one iced coffee, French vanilla, way too much cream and sugar, just like you like. And I got a large today, because God knows we're both going to need the energy with the little minions sure to be running around the aquarium like they own the place. The buses are already outside, FYI, and I think Mr. Gronteiro might actually be about to have a mental episode on one of the drivers-"

"Quinn," Olivia felt it was probably best to interrupt her friend before she could say something about Mr. Gronteiro, a grumpy and generally unfriendly school janitor, that she might regret saying in front of a parent. Olivia gestured to Fitz, who had finished wiping down the last table and was making his way towards them with the spray bottle in hand and an amused smile on his face.

"Oh!" Quinn exclaimed, "Sorry Liv, I didn't realize you had company. Good morning, you're Teddy Grant's father, right?"

"Right. Good morning, Ms. Perkins. It's nice to see you again," Fitz shook Quinn's hand with the usual charming smile that made Olivia's insides heat up even though it wasn't directed at her. Then he turned to look at Olivia with curiosity in his gorgeous blue eyes, "You're the birthday girl?"

"Yes," Olivia confirmed shyly.

"You should've told me sooner. Happy birthday, Mrs. Davis," he said sincerely. Olivia blushed under the intensity of gaze and averted her eyes. She felt once again like Fitz was seeing right through her, and it left her feeling slightly breathless. She hoped that neither he nor Quinn noticed the affect that he was having on her.

"Well, I was hoping to keep it under wraps," Olivia said, shooting Quinn a pointed look. She didn't need everyone making a big fuss over her birthday.

"Too late," Quinn said cheekily, "The kids already know—"

"You told them? How come none of them asked me about it?" Olivia asked disbelievingly. If there was anything she'd learned as a teacher, it was that second graders were the nosiest people on the planet. No topic of conversation was off-limits to them. In the past she'd been grilled about her personal life, about her husband, about her parents and family and friends and _how come you don't have any kids yet, Mrs. Davis?_ _Mrs. Davis, who did you vote for for president? Do you make more money than my parents? _If one of her students had caught word that she had a birthday coming up, they would no doubt have questioned her about it for as long as Olivia would tolerate.

"I don't know. Definitely not because they made a surprise for you during their art period yesterday and were told to keep it a secret until today," Quinn said with a mischievous smile.

"Quinn!" Olivia exclaimed, exasperated, "You know I hate it when people make a big deal over-"

"I know, but don't blame me. It was Miss Dwyer's idea," Quinn said with a shrug as Fitz chuckled, "I just nodded approvingly. And you can't tell the kids that I let you know that there was a surprise. They were really excited."

"Ugh, fine. I'm impressed that none of them let it slip, to be honest."

"Me too. But anyway, I'm off to my classroom. Here's your coffee. I'll see you at the buses at 9:30!"

* * *

Fitz had been looking forward to Teddy's field trip all week. He was excited to spend time with his son and his classmates, and he was equally as excited to spend the day in the presence of the beautiful Olivia Davis. She consumed his thoughts day and night ever since they met again two weeks ago. He tried not to think about her, to remind himself that she was married now, which meant that she would forever be off-limits to him, but he couldn't help it. He felt a little flutter of excitement every time he spoke to her on the phone or received an email from her, and he loved being near her the two times he'd picked up Teddy from school. He decided that that was a thing that he was going to do more often during his weeks with Teddy. Teddy needed a parent, not his babysitter, and being able to be there for him in the afternoons was one of the big reasons why Fitz had quit his law career in the first place. It didn't hurt that picking him up from school also allowed Fitz a chance to get a glimpse of Olivia.

He was actually nervous when he woke up the morning of the field trip. He didn't have Teddy that week, so there was no seven-year-old to keep his mind off of things or to serve as a buffer between him and Olivia when he arrived at the classroom. And he surely could have used the distraction when he got to the classroom and saw that Olivia was wearing a pretty, curve-hugging gray dress that showcased her beautiful long legs—the very same legs that had been on display the night he'd first met her, the very same legs that had gripped his waist tightly as she ground her hips down into his. Fitz instinctively let his eyes drift downward in appreciation as she greeted him warmly.

He realized that he had arrived way earlier than he intended to, but she took him up on his offer to help set up and didn't seem to think it was odd. He liked the way the conversation flowed freely between them. Mellie never took his decision to enter an Educational Administration program seriously—like his separation from her, she thought it was a phase that he would eventually get over—but Olivia seemed genuinely curious. And then Teddy's first-grade teacher had come in—it seemed like she and Olivia were good friends—and Fitz learned that today was Olivia's birthday. The expression on Olivia's face when Ms. Perkins told her that the kids were planning a surprise was priceless.

He followed her lead for the rest of the morning, happily doing whatever she asked of him. They went down to pick up the kids from the cafeteria together, and two more parents joined them when they got there. The kids were all excited and full of energy, but Olivia took it in stride as she led them back to the classroom and divided them into groups for the trip, then gave each child a buddy within their group. She explained that they would be together as one class for most of the day, but there would be times when they would need to break off into the groups and take turns for some of the smaller exhibits. She assigned Fitz and another parent to a group of eight kids, including Teddy and two of his best friends. It wasn't long before they were piling onto one of the several yellow school buses waiting for them in front of the school. They were joined on their bus by another second grade class.

The trip was fun. The kids were a handful with all of their excitement, but everyone was respectful and well behaved. They spent the morning exploring the aquarium, looking at all kinds of fish, turtles, sharks, and seals. They had a tour guide who explained everything to the kids, let them touch starfish and sea urchins, and made them giggle with her fish-related jokes. They saw the giant turtle that Teddy had been excited about and, of course, the penguin exhibit. Olivia organized them all into rows in front of the penguins and the tour guide took a picture of them with penguin flag. Then all of the classes sat down together in front of one of the giant tanks to watch two of the marine biologists feed and play with the seals.

Fitz found himself watching Olivia more than he was watching the animals. He wasn't doing it on purpose. He knew how inappropriate it was to stare at his son's teacher on a field trip in front of dozens of students, but she was distracting. She was clearly in her element; teaching and handling the kids came naturally for her. Fitz didn't think it was possible for him to be even more attracted to this woman, but her warm, caring personality was just as much a turn-on for him as her flawless figure. She caught him watching her once—she just happened to glance up and catch his eye while she was in the middle of conversation with one of the kids—and the gorgeous smile she flashed him before refocusing on the child in front of her literally stole his breath away.

Olivia received her surprise from the kids at lunchtime, when they all sang happy birthday as Quinn and two other teachers brought out a box filled with dozens of handmade cards from the kids and three massive strawberry fruit cakes—enough for everyone to have a piece. Fitz's heart constricted as watched Olivia's shocked reaction from where he sat with Teddy and his friends. She was adorable. Her look of shock eventually gave way to a big smile, and in that moment she looked happier than Fitz had ever seen her. He knew that he would gladly give her the shirt off of his back if it meant that he would get to see her smile like that all of the time.

After lunch the whole group filed into the aquarium's theater to watch a 3-D movie about whales. Fitz sat directly behind Olivia, close enough to catch a whiff of her perfume every time she shifted in her seat. It was light but intoxicating, and made him want to kiss her neck and bury himself in her scent. He spent most of the movie daydreaming about doing just that, and by the end his fingers were itching to reach out and touch her. He was rudely jerked back into reality when the lights came on and the students started chattering away.

It was time to get back on the school buses and make the trip back to Fort Hill.

* * *

**AN: Well, that was a strange chapter for me! A lot of you were really excited about this field trip and did a lot of speculating about what could go down in your reviews, and to you I say…THE TRIP ISN'T OVER YET! Some seriously interesting things will happen in the next chapter. I hate to end it here, but this chapter was getting too damn long, and plus I haven't edited the next part yet and it's already been over a week for you guys…I didn't want to make you wait any longer! **

**Also, idk if anyone's noticed but there are some inconsistencies regarding where Fitz and Olivia live in this story. For example, they just went on a field trip to the New England Aquarium (which is located in Boston, MA) but Fitz teaches at Georgetown in Washington, DC. That's because I live in Boston but Scandal is set in DC (obviously), and I couldn't really decide where I wanted them to live as I was writing this so I sort of threw in elements of both. So Fitz and Olivia live in a fictional, metropolitan cross between Boston and DC. Let's call it…Olitzlandia!**

**Last thing: Did you know that school groups can actually send a penguin flag to Antarctica? My students did it this year and it was pretty friggin awesome. Idk if there are any teachers among you who would be interested to know that, but I thought I'd share!**

**Reviews absolutely make my day!**


	6. This Is Inappropriate

**A/N: Drumroll please…**

* * *

**Chapter 5: This Is Inappropriate**

Fitz and Olivia spent the entire bus ride back to school talking. He wasn't exactly sure how it happened, but the two of them ended up sitting across from each other at the back of the school bus, keeping a watchful eye over the children in the last few rows while the rest of the adults sat up front. The kids were quiet, exhausted from their field trip, and some of them—Teddy included—drifted off to sleep as soon as the bus began to move.

Fitz and Olivia spoke in hushed tones so as not to be overheard or disturb any of the sleeping children. At first they just made chit-chat, but soon Fitz found himself telling her stories from his own elementary school years. She giggled quietly when he told her about his own less-than-perfect behavior, encouraged him to keep talking by asking questions, and by the end of the trip she had even offered up one or two slightly embarrassing anecdotes of her own. Fitz felt as though his heart was permanently stuck in overdrive as they talked. She was charming and witty and her laughter was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. He was fully enchanted with her. He wanted to keep talking to her, to keep making her laugh, forever. He wished he could get closer to her. His fingers yearned to 'accidentally' brush against her softness.

But there was an aisle in between them, and that was probably for the best.

Their arrival at school cut their conversation short far sooner than Fitz would've liked. Olivia flashed him a chest-tightening smile as the bus came to a halt before she stood up and slipped back into her confident, no-nonsense teacher mode. He watched her walk to the front of the bus, his groin tightening at the sight of her hips swaying under her fitted houndstooth coat. He shook his head to clear his thoughts before turning to Teddy, shaking his shoulder gently to wake him.

They were back at school just in time for dismissal. Fitz and Teddy followed Olivia and her class to the schoolyard, where Teddy's babysitter, Evelyn, should have been waiting to pick him up. Teddy whined and complained about having to go back to his mother's house—it was _boring_, he said, and Mellie was never home. Although Fitz was just as bummed as Teddy, he tried not to show it in front of his son and reminded him that they had to stick to the deal they'd made with Mellie. Teddy only had one more night to go before his week with Fitz started tomorrow. Evelyn was running a couple of minutes behind schedule and by the time she arrived to get Teddy, Olivia was just saying goodbye to her last student. Quinn, whose students were already gone, had joined her, and Fitz noticed that the two of them had quite a few things to carry back into the classrooms. Being a chivalrous man—and because he saw it as an opportunity to prolong his time with Olivia—he offered to help. The two women graciously took him up on his offer and handed him the box containing Olivia's leftover strawberry fruitcake. Olivia and Quinn began chit-chatting as the three of them started back towards the classrooms together.

"Oh hey, Abby texted me while we were on the school bus," Quinn said as they reached the door to her first-grade classroom and stopped walking. All of the second-grade classrooms were further down the hall, "I'm supposed to ask if you're _sure_ you don't want to do birthday drinks tonight."

Olivia frowned.

"I _want_ to do birthday drinks, Quinn, but I _can't_," she said, clearly annoyed.

"Do you at least have time for, like, one drink at happy hour?"

"_No_, Quinn," Olivia said firmly.

"Oh come on, Liv. It'll be fun. Me, you, Abby…I'm sure we can convince Harrison to leave work for an hour or two. _You_ look like a man who knows how to have a good time, Mr. Grant. You can come along too. The more, the merrier."

There was nothing Fitz would like more than to spend time with Olivia outside of school. He glanced at her. The deep frown was still on her face as she glared daggers at Quinn.

"I never turn down an invitation to happy hour," he said casually.

"Trust me, if I could I would," Olivia said, glancing at him briefly. Their eyes met and held for a moment before she turned back to Quinn, "I need to go home and get ready for the party. I've gotta redo my hair, nails, makeup…it'll take me all the time I have."

"Fine," Quinn said reluctantly, reaching for the door to her room, "But now you can tell Abby that I tried. That woman won't give up on having drinks tonight. She's like a dog with a freakin' bone."

Olivia smiled.

"I know. She's a pain in the butt. But I'll see you tomorrow, Quinn. I promise we'll have fun then."

"We better. See ya, Liv. Bye, Mr. Grant. It was nice seeing you again."

"Bye," Fitz called as he and Olivia began moving down the hallway towards her classroom. For the most part he was clueless as to the events and people that she and Quinn had been discussing. He adjusted the box in his arms and eyed Olivia as they walked down the hallway. She seemed a little more tense now, and he wished he knew of something he could say to make her laugh again.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked after a moment.

_Because I want to make you happy all the time._

Fitz blinked and shook his head as he realized that he was staring.

"Sorry," he apologized, "I was just thinking."

She glanced at him, a hint of defensiveness in her big brown eyes. Her walls were firmly back in place. The relaxed, carefree girl that had giggled with him on the bus was gone.

"What were you thinking about, Mr. Grant?"

Fitz shrugged, knowing he couldn't very well tell her what he had actually been thinking about without running the risk of sounding like a huge creep.

"Nothing important," he said, deciding to change the subject, "So, is this a birthday party you need to get ready for?"

"Ha! I wish," Olivia said dryly, "It's actually a work party for my husband's company. The fact that today is my birthday is a mere coincidence."

A hot, intense burst of jealousy rushed through Fitz at the words 'my husband.' He hated—_absolutely_ _despised_—the fact that she was married. The thought of Olivia going home to someone else, kissing someone else, _sleeping with_ someone else made his blood boil even though he knew that he had no right to feel anything for her. It was easy to forget that she was a married woman when it was just the two of them talking, but in the last few weeks the thought had been lurking in the back of his mind whenever he was alone. Recently when he thought about their encounter two years ago he couldn't help but wonder—had she been married back then, too?

He didn't know which was worse—the idea that by engaging in their affair Olivia had been playing the role of a cheating adulteress, or the idea that their affair had had so little affect on her that, while Fitz had spent the last two years physically unable to perform in bed with his wife without imagining that it was her, she had moved on, fallen in love, gotten married to another, better man.

"Your husband?" Fitz repeated dumbly, his whole thought process short-circuited by those two simple words.

"Yes," Olivia looked at him strangely, "I'm married, you know."

_How could I __**not**__ know?_

"I know," Fitz said, but he still struggled to find something appropriate to say, "I just…What does he do?"

Olivia continued to look at him curiously for a moment. He met her eyes and gave her his best impassive expression until she sighed and looked away.

"He's the Chief Operating Officer of Davis Corporation," she said, "It's—"

"Davis Corp?" Fitz asked, interrupting her before she could explain Davis Corporation to him. He was familiar with Davis Corp. It was only one of the five biggest multinational corporations in the world, amassing billions of dollars each year. Fitz was a well-off man, but apparently Olivia's husband was one of the few men in the state who just might have more money than he did, "You're Olivia Davis as in _Davis_ _Corporation_?"

"Yes," Olivia answered, and Fitz noted that she didn't sound too enthusiastic about it, "It's my husband's father's company. They're the official foodservice providers of the Sochi Olympics. It's a big deal for them, I guess, so there's a kickoff party tonight and my husband would kill me if I didn't go."

"What, you don't want to go?" Fitz asked. She shrugged.

"No, not really," she answered, "It's just a bunch of stuffy old suits drinking scotch and acting like they own the world while they ogle twelve-year-old interns. And I always have to sit with all the idiot housewives and pretend I give a damn while they blabber on about their spoiled brat children. Plus it's so much effort to get ready for. I have to look perfect so that Edison can show me off like I'm some kind of prize that he won down at the state fair instead of his _wife_."

Fitz raised his eyebrows at the unmistakable hint of bitterness that laced its way through her tone when she talked about her husband showing her off. Maybe there was trouble in paradise after all. There could still be hope for him. He glanced at her again. Even after a long day at work, her silky hair still fell into perfect curls that he itched to run his fingers through. Light pink lipstick stained her plump lips, and her high cheekbones gleamed, still slightly flushed from having just been outside in the cold. She was beautiful, plain and simple. Fitz didn't think he would ever get tired of looking at her.

"It can't take you that long to get ready," he murmured before he could stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth, "You're absolutely gorgeous as it is."

"Excuse me?"

Olivia sounded as if she didn't quite believe what she was hearing. They had reached her classroom and she froze in place with her hand on the doorknob, cocking her head to look at him. Fitz could see the warning flash in her eyes and felt his stomach drop. He had definitely crossed a line. He didn't know what was wrong with himself. Why was this the second moronic thing he'd said to her in five minutes?

He opened his mouth and was about to utter some lame apology when Olivia's eyes dropped. She pulled her bottom lip in with her teeth and Fitz suddenly felt like he was on display as she looked him over, her eyes traveling over every inch of him before returning to focus on his face. The new gleam of hunger in her gaze was unmistakable.

_She was checking him out._

Fitz felt his body heat up under her intense stare and his groin tighten painfully. She looked so sexy just standing there, biting her lip. The urge to take that lip in his own mouth and nibble on it himself was almost irresistible. He wanted her soft, sensuous body pressed fully against his and he couldn't help but take a step forward at the thought. To his surprise and delight, she didn't take a step back; at least not right away. She just peered up at him through those long lashes, her eyes warm like melted chocolate, and permitted him to spend a few glorious seconds well within her personal space. He breathed deeply, letting her feminine scent intoxicate him, and watched her take a deep, shaky breath of her own. He was half a second away from saying to hell with his self-control and reaching out to pull her against him when she suddenly came to her senses and turned away from him, opening the door to her classroom and taking a few steps inside. Fitz followed closely behind her like a lost puppy.

"Thank you for carrying the cake. You can put it down on one of the tables," she said. Was it his imagination, or was her voice unsteady now? "I'll stick it in the fridge in the teacher's room on my way out. There's no way I'm going to be able to eat the whole thing at home."

"No problem," Fitz said, setting the cake down on the long table at the front of the classroom, right in front of her desk. He watched as she went behind her desk, set down her tote bag and box she was carrying—containing her birthday cards from the kids and the penguin flag—and began fettering with some papers. His whole body was aching for her and he couldn't stop looking at her, notions of intimate touches and passionate kisses swirling around his brain. He knew that he was being bold and very, very inappropriate, looking at her as he was without making any attempt to mask what he was feeling, but he had spent all day with her in his line of vision and he was tired of pretending that she wasn't distractingly beautiful. And, if the way she'd been looking at him a few seconds ago was any indication, she was tired of pretending as well.

If only their circumstances were different. If only she wasn't married. If only _he_ wasn't married, although in his opinion his marriage was really a non-issue. It was ending, and soon, and to be quite honest it was Olivia who had gotten the ball rolling on Fitz's decision to divorce Mellie. He had been okay with being unhappily married to Mellie before he met Olivia, but then she had burst into his life and showed him exactly what he was missing out on. It was all he could think about for months afterward, until finally he just could not take living with Mellie anymore.

If only Fitz had had the courage to follow his gut and stop Olivia from leaving that night. He should've gotten her last name, her phone number, her email address, _something_…Maybe she hadn't been married back then. Maybe they could've kept seeing each other.

"Why are you staring at me?" she asked quietly, keeping her eyes focused on the papers in front of her and avoiding his gaze. Fitz saw her set her attendance sheet off to the side.

"I think you know why," Fitz took a step forward so that he was directly in front of her desk. The two-foot wide surface was the only thing keeping them apart. He kept his eyes on her, and she kept looking down at her desk.

"This is inappropriate," she murmured.

"Well then let's be inappropriate," Fitz countered smoothly, not taking his eyes off of her.

She didn't say anything else, just kept fidgeting nervously with things on her desk. A moment passed.

"How long have you been married?" Fitz asked suddenly. He couldn't help himself. He was dying to know.

"Excuse me?" her eyes flew up to meet his. _Finally_. Her big brown eyes were so expressive; Fitz always felt that he could read her better when she was looking directly at him. This time she seemed anxious, apprehensive, but there was still a hint of desire underneath it all. Her pupils were dilated and her breathing was quick, shallow. Encouraged by this, Fitz repeated himself.

"I asked how long you've been married."

She didn't answer, but she didn't break his gaze either. He saw the recognition in her eyes, the acknowledgement that, yes, they were actually going to have this conversation. Her fingers fussed with the edges of her attendance sheet. She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again. Fitz's heart was pounding as he waited for her answer. He wasn't sure why, but suddenly he _needed_ to know.

"Longer than two years?" he asked. Olivia took a deep breath.

"I-I…thought you didn't remember," she said, her voice trembling. Fitz frowned. That was the lastthing he'd expected her to say. She remembered their encounter, and that was something he had known from the second their eyes met when he arrived for their first parent-teacher conference. It had never, not once, in all these days of professionalism and courteousness, occurred to him that she might be under the impression that he did _not_ remember her.

"You thought…" Fitz instinctively reached out and touched her hand, stilling the fingers that worried the attendance sheet and covering them with his own, "You thought I could forget you?"

She lowered her eyes and didn't respond. It took everything Fitz had within him not to cross over to the other side of the desk and sweep her up in his arms. He wanted to take her, kiss her, possess her until she was aware of just how much he'd been thinking about her over the past two years. But she was a teacher and they were in a classroom, inside an elementary school, and such a move would be wildly inappropriate. It hurt his heart to think that she thought that he didn't recognize her, that she thought that she could be so easily forgotten.

"I remember every second, Olivia. I think about you every day," he said, lightly rubbing his thumb in circles over her hand, "Don't you remember that I told you that you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen? How could I forget you?"

She still didn't respond, and Fitz knew that she wouldn't. Seconds ticked by as Fitz let the weight of his words settle in.

"Were you married then?" he asked again. Her eyes flew up to meet his once more, but fell quickly. More seconds ticked by. Fitz continued to caress her hand.

"Yes," she said finally, the words leaving her mouth on an exhale. She continued, her voice barely above a whisper, "And so were you."

Fitz's stomach tightened.

_Touché, Olivia._

* * *

Absolutely gorgeous. He called her absolutely gorgeous. He murmured it, his voice so low that she almost missed it, but he said it all the same. _Absolutely gorgeous._

"Excuse me?"

Olivia struggled to remain clear-headed, but the truth was that those two simple words from him were throwing her for a loop. Her body had been hyper-sensitive, hyper-aware of him all day long, and now a rush of warmth flooded her from head to toe as his words took her back to that fateful night so long ago. She still remembered how he'd showered her with compliments, how he'd made her feel like she was the single most desirable woman in the world.

_Dance with me, beautiful?_

_Tell me what else you want, pretty girl._

_You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen._

She froze with her hand on the doorknob of her classroom door and looked at him. She wanted to get angry, to yell at him until she was sure that he would never call her _absolutely gorgeous_, or any other inappropriate adjectives, ever again. But she couldn't. All day she had been trying not to let him distract her, and now here he was, standing three feet away from her, looking fine as ever and telling her how gorgeous she was with an unmistakable gleam of desire in his eye.

She couldn't help but drop her gaze, unconsciously biting her lip as she took in everything about the tall, muscular form in front of her. She let her eyes linger on his lips for a moment, resisting the urge to just kiss them, before she took in his solid chest and his arms…She loved his arms. They were big and strong and made to hold a woman tight, to make her feel protected and warm. God, she wanted to be that woman. She wanted to feel his arms around her and lay her head on his chest and know that she was safe and loved. She returned her eyes to his face and he was staring at her like he wanted to eat her alive. She drew in a deep breath as he took a step closer to her, her whole body burning for him. She couldn't find it inside herself to step back. She let him be in her personal space, let herself bask in her body's reaction to him for just a few glorious moments after forcing herself to shut it down all day long.

_Kiss me, Fitz._

She wanted to say the words aloud, but she didn't. She couldn't. Suddenly she snapped back to her senses. What was _wrong_ with her? They were standing in the middle of the hallway, right outside her classroom, where anyone—students, other teachers, even Mr. Beene—could walk by and witness the two of them staring at each other like fools. Olivia was one of the best teachers at Fort Hill Elementary. She was well-liked by staff and parents, her students adored her, and her classes consistently scored well on benchmarks. She couldn't let something so foolish as to be caught 'making eyes,' as Abby and Quinn would call it, with a parent in the hallway ruin her reputation.

Especially not if the parent in question was one with whom she'd had a one-night stand years ago, who _didn't_ _even_ _remember_. He was a ladies' man, plain and simple. He just thought she was pretty girl back then, and he just thought she was a pretty girl now. That was it.

Olivia turned away from Fitz and walked into her classroom. She could feel him following closely behind her, and it put all of her senses on high alert. She couldn't function like this. She needed to get rid of him. Quickly.

"Thank you for carrying the cake," she said in what she hoped as a brisk, no-nonsense tone, but it seemed to tremble even to her own ears, "You can put it down on one of the tables. I'll stick it in the fridge in the teacher's room on my way out. There's no way I'm going to be able to eat the whole thing at home."

He said something, she wasn't sure what it was, as he put the cake down on the table closest to her desk. Olivia's mind was too wired, too frazzled to focus on his words, so she went behind her desk and set the items she was carrying on top of it. She could feel his eyes on her, burning her. He was staring again. She pulled her attendance sheet out of a stack of paper—it needed to be turned in to the office on her way out—and kept her eyes and hands focused on shuffling things around even though she really didn't need to. She just couldn't look up at him. She knew that if she saw that he was still looking at her the way he'd been looking at her in the hallway, she would lose all self-control. She took another deep, shaky breath and willed him to stop watching her.

He didn't. Seconds ticked by and he was still standing there, looking at her, not saying a word.

"Why are you staring at me?" Olivia asked finally, unable to take the silence anymore.

"I think you know why," his voice was dark and seductive. It made Olivia's knees melt and her abdomen tighten deliciously. He took a couple of steps forward until he was directly in front of her desk. He was so close, and yet the piece of furniture between them kept them so far apart. Olivia cast her eyes down, willing herself not to give in to him.

"This is inappropriate."

"Well then let's be inappropriate," Fitz said, his husky baritone full of temptation and wicked promises that reduced Olivia to silence.

"How long have you been married?" he demanded suddenly.

"Excuse me?" Olivia's mouth dropped open in shock and her eyes flew up to meet his. That was _not_ what she'd been expecting him to ask, but there was a hint of torment in his expression and she could tell that this was a question that had been on his mind for quite some time. She had already gathered from the displeasure in his voice when they talked about Davis Corp that Fitz didn't really care for the idea of her having a husband.

"I asked how long you've been married."

Olivia stared at him. He didn't like that she was married, that much was obvious. What she didn't understand was _why_ he didn't like that she was married. He was married, too, and she was sure that he had probably stepped out on his wife plenty of times. What did it matter to him that one of the women who he wanted to cheat on his wife with was also married? Not to mention that he was so rugged and handsome, there were probably thousands of women out there that were ready to lay their panties down at his feet. What did it matter to him whether Olivia was one of them? _Unless..._

Realization washed over Olivia like a cold shot of adrenaline. Suddenly her heart was racing and she felt like she wasn't breathing deeply enough. She opened her mouth to say something, but she wasn't sure what to say and she couldn't find her voice, anyway. She closed her mouth and Fitz narrowed his eyes. He was watching her intensely, his expression reflecting the anticipation of her answer mixed with the lust that he was no longer bothering to hide.

"Longer than two years?" he asked finally, and a jolt ran through Olivia like the bottom had fallen out of her stomach.

_He remembered._

The last two weeks had been torture, knowing—thinking—that Fitz didn't remember her. Even with that knowledge, she hadn't been able to stop thinking about him. He still popped into her mind at random. She had still pictured him in front of her the one time Edison had been in the mood for sex about a week ago. She still fantasized about him on nights when Edison worked late, when he left her restless and horny and all alone with only the vibrator that he knew nothing about. She couldn't stop thinking about Fitz no matter how hard she tried, and it stung that he had so easily been able to forget her.

_Or not_.

Olivia stared at him for a moment, unable to believe what she was hearing. He remembered. _He remembered_. It was something that shouldn't matter, whether he remembered their one-night stand or not. It shouldn't matter, but it did. Olivia felt a small surge of joy, of relief as it sunk in that he _remembered_ her.

"I-I thought you didn't remember," her voice was quieter, shakier than she intended for it to be, but she couldn't quite figure out what happened to the strong, take-charge teacher that usually dominated this classroom. That woman was gone, replaced by an emotional, quivering mess of a girl who Olivia barely recognized. Nothing Edison did had ever made her feel this emotional. Only Fitz could do this to her.

The intense, lusty gleam in Fitz's eye melted into something much softer.

"You thought…" his large hand reached out and covered hers, stopping her from fidgeting with the attendance sheet—something she wasn't aware that she had been doing. His fingers slipped around hers and held them gently, "You thought I could forget you?"

Olivia inhaled sharply and looked away. She could not handle the tenderness in his voice or the sadness in his words as he rubbed soothing circles on her hand. She wanted to throw herself at him, to kiss him and touch him and explore him and see if maybe, just maybe, he could still make her feel like he had on that night; like he adored her, like she amazed him. Maybe it was all true. Maybe he really did adore her. Maybe she really did amaze him. She hoped so, because she adored him. She was amazed by him. That was how she felt about him; how she had been feeling about him, even through two years of not even knowing whether or not he still existed.

"I remember every second, Olivia. I think about you every day," he said then, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles over her hand, "Do you remember that I told you that you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen? How could I forget you?"

_Yes_, she remembered. Of course she remembered. How could she forget those words? The way he'd picked her up and pinned her to the wall like she weighed nothing, their bodies pressed fully against each other her, legs tight around his waist, their faces inches, _centimeters _apart, when he stopped moving and just stared at her, taking in every detail of her, before he murmured those words.

_You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen._

The way he made her feel in that moment…she would never forget it.

"Were you married then?" Fitz asked again. Olivia glanced up at him, and a shiver worked its way through her body at the intensity that had returned to his gaze. She dropped her eyes and fixed them on their hands, his still caressing hers, on the desk in front of them. She couldn't look at Fitz. If she looked at him, she would give in. And they were two married people in a classroom—_her_ classroom, at _her_ place of work. She couldn't give in, no matter how badly she wanted to feel that way again.

But he deserved an answer. He deserved to know.

"Yes," she said finally. She didn't mean to whisper, but it was all she could find of her voice. She had the feeling that he would be jealous, so she decided to remind him that she had not been the only married person in the closet that night, "And so were you."

Fitz was silent for a long moment. He stopped rubbing her hand, but didn't withdraw his own. Olivia dared to look up at him. He looked like he was deep in thought, seriously considering his next words.

"I was," he said finally, "I've been married for twenty years now, but I don't want you to think that I went to that nightclub with the intention of getting drunk and screwing around with some random girl in a closet-"

Olivia flinched at his words. That was _exactly_ what she had been thinking, _exactly_ what she was most afraid of.

"That night meant something to me, Olivia," Fitz continued, "I was at the bar, and I hate nightclubs so I was _miserable_, and all the sudden I saw this incredible woman go by. You were wearing a black dress, it was short and tight, and you were with some friends and one of them made you laugh and it literally felt like my heart stopped beating, watching you laugh like that from across the bar-"

"Stop," Olivia interrupted, emotions running rampant within her, unable to listen to any more. Fitz fell silent.

Olivia pulled her hand out of his and turned away from him, facing the blackboard behind her desk. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths, willing her nerves to calm down. It was thrilling, listening to Fitz tell her exactly what she had been longing to hear for two years—that she wasn't the only one who felt something special between them that night. He didn't just remember her; he remembered little details. He was speaking to her, about her, like she was the thing he cherished most in the whole world, and she couldn't handle it anymore. She had to make him stop talking if she was going to resist the urge to run to him, to throw her arms around him, to kiss him with everything she had inside of her.

Olivia struggled to clear her head. She couldn't believe that they were having this conversation, and in the middle of her classroom of all places. It was wrong, to stand in the room where she taught dozens of young children each day and talk about the one-night stand she once had with a _parent_. It was so wrong. She had to stop. She needed to get her emotions under control.

Olivia kept her eyes closed, kept monitoring her own breathing, for what felt like a long time. Fitz was still behind her, she could feel it, but it was awhile before he spoke again.

"You should know that I've thought about you every night since then, Olivia. I've been dying to find you-"

"Stop," Olivia said again, more forcefully this time. She whirled around to face him and ignored the raw emotion she saw on his face, "We shouldn't be talking about this. Thank you for coming on the field trip with us. Thank you for helping me carry the cake. You should go now."

Fitz stared at her and she stared right back, holding his gaze and hoping that she was able to convey a determination that she did not feel. She silently prayed that he would listen to her, that he would turn around and leave her alone to sort through the hurricane that her emotions had become. She knew that he wouldn't when she saw him open his mouth to speak.

"Do you and your husband have any children, Olivia?"

"N-no," Olivia faltered, thrown off by the random question.

"Why not?"

"I—" Olivia frowned. That was a loaded question. There were so many reasons, most of them ones that hurt to think about and that she didn't feel like discussing with a parent in the middle of her classroom. She closed her mouth and didn't say anything more.

"I'm just curious," Fitz continued, "I mean…you've been married awhile. Longer than two years, anyway. You're young, you obviously love children…I was just wondering why you don't have any of your own yet."

"I-I don't know," Olivia said, shifting uncomfortably. His intense blue gaze was fixed on her, and she felt once again like he could see right through her, "I guess it just hasn't been the right time and…my husband and I, we tried once before but it didn't really end well…like I said, it just wasn't the right time. Maybe someday."

"So you want to have children?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

Fitz didn't say anything else, and Olivia wasn't quite sure what to say after his rather invasive line of questioning. They were both silent for a moment.

"We should be friends," Fitz said suddenly. Olivia blinked.

"What?"

"Friends," Fitz repeated, gesturing between them, "You and I, we should be friends."

Olivia rolled her eyes.

"We cannot be friends, Mr. Grant," she said. She couldn't imagine herself just sitting around and hanging out with Fitz the way that she did with Harrison. Sure, she could talk to Fitz. He was charming and intelligent, and he could make her laugh with ease if their conversation on the school bus was any indication. They could probably have a fantastic time together. But Olivia could not foresee a time where she could be around Fitz and not want to climb him like a tree. Friends did not climb each other. She and Fitz could not be friends.

"We could be _good_ friends, _Olivia_," Fitz said smoothly, and Olivia shivered at the emphasis he placed on her first name. It sounded like honey, coming from his lips, "We could start with you calling me by my first name—well, not my entire first name. _Fitzgerald_ is a mouthful, and it's what my wife calls me when she's angry, but Fitz will do…And then we can hang out sometimes. We can go for drinks. As a friend, I'm sure I owe you a birthday drink, as a matter of fact. I could buy you one tonight. And we can do other things, anything, whatever you like to do-"

"Mr. Grant," Olivia interrupted him again with a shake of her head, "We are two married people. Your son is a student in my classroom. _Nothing_ good can come out of us getting drinks or doing anything else together. We cannot be friends."

Fitz looked at her for a long moment. Olivia met his gaze and refused to let hers waver.

"Fine," he relented finally, and Olivia watched as he turned to gather his coat off of the table behind him. He seemed…_sad_, now. "We won't be friends, then. I hope the rest of your birthday is enjoyable. I'm sure that your…_husband_ has got something special planned for you when you get home, so I won't keep you any longer. I'll see you next week. I should be by to pick up Teddy from school on Tuesday and Thursday, at least."

"I'll see you then," Olivia said, giving Fitz her best professional smile. Fitz paused and looked her over one last time.

"Have a good weekend, Olivia."

"Have a good weekend, Mr. Grant."

* * *

**AN: Well that was a lovely conversation! Aren't we all glad that Liv doesn't have to torture herself thinking Fitz doesn't remember her any longer? Although she still seems to think that he's a ladies' man who cheats on his wife all the time. Maybe she's right. Maybe she's wrong. **

**Btw, I am seriously feeling all the love from you guys! You guys really liked the last chapter, which was cool because at first it wasn't one of my favorites, but then you guys kept pointing out all the parts that you liked and I went through it a couple times and was realized...yeah, this chapter is pretty good after all. Lol. Basically what I'm trying to say here is: your reviews are amazing and make my day, so please keep 'em coming!**

**Some of you asked me for more information about the penguin flag thing (I honestly can't remember who and I'm far too lazy to check, so my bad!). My class sent our flag to the Adelie Penguin breeding colony at Cape Royds, Antarctica. I can't post the link here because good old ffdotnet doesn't appreciate that, but just google that and it should come up! Also, they only accept the flags around Christmastime, so you'll have to wait 'til next year. **

**P.S. Who thinks Fitz and Liv should be, ahem, friends? Who thinks they can go a whole weekend without seeing each other? Stay tuned!**


	7. Happy Birthday, Mrs Davis

**Hello peeps! Sorry for the slight delay in this chapter – let me tell you, it was challenging to write. I got stuck and re-wrote some things like 500,000 times, but I think I'm happy with the way it turned out! Also, I posted a short, meaningless Olitz dribble earlier this week if anyone wants to check it out (it's called Eat Me Up). It sort of just came out of me while I was stuck on this, lol. Anywho, I'll stop talking now. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 6: Happy Birthday, Mrs. Davis**

Olivia wasn't exactly sure how she made it home; her body steered the car automatically while her mind was busy trying to deal with the storm of emotions Fitzgerald Grant had unleashed within her. Their conversation replayed on a loop in her head. Every word he said to her was seared into her memory. She could almost hear his confident baritone in her ear, and it made her spine tingle more than once.

Olivia kicked off her heels in the entryway of her house and made her way upstairs. A glance at the clock in her bedroom told her that it was much later than she'd planned to be home, and she knew that she needed to move quickly if she wanted to be ready for Edison on time. She stripped off her clothes as she headed to the bathroom, wishing that she could take a hot, soothing bath but knowing that she didn't have the time.

She turned on the shower and stopped in front of the full-length mirror, staring at herself as she waited for the water to heat up. Her eyes were bright, cheeks flushed. Her encounter with Fitz had left her feeling tight, achy, so she cupped her breasts in her hands and rubbed her thumbs gently over her nipples, wishing that they were Fitz's calloused fingers instead of her own. What she needed right now was a good, strong orgasm. She had been craving one even before her day with Fitz and now, after a long day of existing under his heated gaze, that need was magnified times one thousand. Olivia sighed and dropped her hands, shaking her head as she took a step closer to the mirror. She knew that she wasn't going to get the orgasm she craved, so she needed to snap out of it.

She had to stop thinking about Fitz. It was her birthday and she was getting ready for a night with her husband. Edison was the only man she ought to be thinking about. Olivia closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to remember how just twenty-four hours earlier she had actually been looking forward to going to dinner with Edison. It would be nice to have his undivided attention for a change. They could talk and laugh and share stories about their day, talk about the news, discuss politics, whatever they wanted. Edison could hold her hand and give her compliments and maybe steal a kiss every now and then. They could be just like they used to be all the time—before they got married, before Edison was C.O.O., and before Fitz had taken Olivia's libido by storm.

Olivia took another deep breath and opened her eyes as she exhaled. She was going to focus on Edison and banish Fitz from her mind. She was going to enjoy one of the few date nights she had with Edison. She wasn't going to spend it thinking about Fitz or dreading the unfortunate fact that their date would have to be followed by a Davis Corporation party. She was just going to relax and let herself have a good time.

Olivia smiled confidently at herself in the mirror before she stepped into the shower.

* * *

Two hours later Olivia was back in front of the full-length mirror, this time fully dressed and ready to go. She grabbed the bottle of Caron Poivre perfume off the counter and spritzed it liberally across her neck, wrists, and underneath her dress as she turned and eyed herself approvingly in the mirror.

She was wearing a new metallic gold Michael Kors cocktail dress with black trim around her waist. The dress was mid-thigh length and sleeveless, so she'd paired it with a fitted black cardigan to help fight off the January chill. She was currently barefoot, but she was planning on slipping on her favorite black Jimmy Choo pumps. Shimmering gold earrings dangled from her ears, a gold Movado watch wrapped around her left wrist, and small gold heart—a gift from Edison years ago—hung from a fine chain around her neck. She had re-pressed and curled her hair, repainted her nails a nice nude color, and made her eyes pop with the perfect shade of eye shadow, eyeliner, and mascara. Lastly, she'd added the red lipstick that Edison used to claim was his favorite.

Olivia smiled brightly at her reflection. She looked gorgeous. She loved the contrast of the metallic gold material against her soft brown skin, not to mention that it hugged her toned, slender figure perfectly. She didn't look bad for twenty-nine. She was actually looking forward to seeing Edison's reaction to her outfit.

_It would be more fun to see Fitz's reaction_.

Olivia frowned. Thoughts like that had been involuntarily popping up in her mind the entire time she was getting ready. She suppressed them along with the ever-growing desire to—simply putting it—be fucked. She refused to let herself think about how badly she wanted Fitz's hands on her, _in_ her, and instead made herself concentrate on Edison. She contemplated the probability of convincing him to indulge in a quickie with her before they left for the night, but she knew that it would never happen. He would have to arrive at home very soon in order for them to have enough time, and he was never really the spontaneous type anyway. Plus, tame sex with Edison wasn't what Olivia truly wanted. She wanted something hot, something passionate. She wanted to ruin her hair and bruise her skin and leave more lipstick on her partner than on herself. That was nothing that she was ever going to get from Edison.

Olivia went back into the bedroom and glanced at the clock, which now read 5:45. Their reservation was at 6:30. Edison told her that he would be there to pick her up no later than six—Olivia was assuming that he was going to change and get ready for the party in his office, which occasionally happened when he had a lot of work to do.

Olivia dug her shoes out of the closet, grabbed her black and gold Prada wristlet, and made her way downstairs to wait for Edison. She switched on the television in the living room and sat gingerly in an armchair, not really paying much attention to the news as it flashed across the screen. She contemplated—and not for the first time that night—pouring herself a glass of wine, but she decided against it. She planned on having a glass or two at dinner and there was no way she would survive one of Edison's company parties without taking advantage of the open bar, so she figured she should just wait. Edison would still have plenty to say about her wine-consuming habits without walking into the house to find Olivia already working on a glass. Olivia was sure that his mother would have a comment or two of her own to add as well.

Olivia sighed and tried not to think about how _unexcited_ she was to see Edison's parents. His father, Albert Davis, wasn't really all that bad except for that he was a workaholic, just like Edison, and his company was seemingly the only thing that truly mattered to him. Edison's mother, Alma, was everything that Olivia was not—a career housewife who spent her days doting on Albert's every whim—and every time she got the opportunity she hinted that Olivia ought to quit her job and give birth to a bunch of strong, healthy boys to carry on the Davis name. She was arrogant and proud and Olivia hated every moment that she had to spend with the woman.

Olivia closed her eyes and took a deep breath to clear her mind once again. She wasn't going to think about Alma Davis tonight—at least, not until she and Edison arrived at the party and Olivia needed to figure out ways to avoid her. Until then, Olivia was going to keep her attitude positive.

Olivia's cell phone rang at six o'clock on the dot. She smiled and stood up as she dug it out of her wristlet, figuring that it was probably Edison calling to say that he was waiting for her outside. She slipped one of her pumps on her foot as she slid her thumb across her screen to answer the call.

"Hi Edison."

"Hey Liv."

"Are you outside?"

"Ahh…no," Edison answered, and Olivia paused with her second shoe still in her hand. She knew that tone all too well, "Listen, I'm gonna have to postpone dinner."

Olivia let the shoe fall to the floor, the familiar feeling of disappointment and sadness taking hold of her once again. _Of course._ Edison was putting work first. Again. She shouldn't have let herself look forward to dinner. She should have known better. But Edison had never bailed on her birthday before, and she had assumed that she at least meant that much to him. _Not_.

"Olivia?" Edison asked when she didn't say anything. Olivia sat back down on the armchair and closed her eyes, willing herself not to be upset. This was normal. This was what she should have been expecting.

"Okay," she said, her voice clipped. It was the only word she trusted herself to say without bursting into a fit of anger or tears.

"I'm sorry, I just—I had a meeting with my father, and it ran longer than I thought," Edison explained, "You know how my father is. I can't just walk out on one of his meetings."

_Yes, you can._

"Okay," Olivia said again.

"I was thinking maybe we can just postpone dinner until tomorrow night?" Edison asked, "That way we can make a whole night of it. We can get tickets to one of those shows you like—they're probably sold out, but I'm sure I can get some. Then we can come home and—"

"No," Olivia interrupted, smiling humorlessly. She had made plans with her friends for tomorrow night. Edison _knew_ that. Now he was just being insensitive. And Olivia wasn't going to cancel on her friends for him to _maybe_ follow through with what he was saying.

"No?" Edison repeated, confused.

"Not tomorrow night, Edison," Olivia said firmly.

"But tomorrow is our last chance," Edison insisted, "I'm leaving for Sochi on Sunday, remember?"

"I remember," Olivia said sadly, "It's fine. We don't have to do dinner at all."

"But Olivia it's—"

"_We_ _don't have to do dinner, Edison,_" Olivia repeated bitterly, "I'm obviously not very high on your list of priorities. I wouldn't want to make you go through the trouble."

"Olivia, don't be like that. You know I work hard—"

"I know," Olivia said, shaking her head, "I don't need to hear your whole speech again, Edison."

"I'm going to call and push our reservations to tomorrow night—"

"_Don't_. I won't go tomorrow night. I already have plans."

"Hang out with your friends some other night, Liv."

"No. I want to see them tomorrow. Are you still going to pick me up for this stupid party?"

"Yes, but—"

"What time will you be here?"

"Olivia—"

"_What time, Edison_?" Olivia demanded. She was already so tired of hearing his voice. She wanted to hang up the phone so that she could properly scream and vent and throw things.

"I'll be there around eight."

"Okay. Goodbye, Edison," Olivia hung up the phone before Edison could say another word. She tossed it angrily on the sofa, kicked off the one shoe she was wearing, and stalked into the kitchen without a second of hesitation. She unearthed a bottle of red wine from the back of the freezer and poured herself a generous glass.

_So much for having a glass or two at dinner._

Olivia took a sip and closed her eyes, trying to fight back the tears that threatened to ruin her makeup. So Edison had blown her off again, so what? She had learned a very long time ago not to let Edison's carelessness get under her skin. She had learned to numb herself to the loneliness and disappointment that was her marriage. She knew how to stifle the voice in the back of her head, the nagging one that wondered why she was unfortunate enough to have a husband who couldn't even be bothered to take her to dinner for her birthday. If she dwelled on those thoughts—_why didn't Edison care? Why wasn't she good enough for his attention_—they would consume her, drown her, ruin her evening and her next several days as well. She hated wallowing in self-pity, and so usually she chose to redirect her attention elsewhere.

Work was usually a good distraction. There was always more grading to be done and more lesson plans to be created, but Olivia had anticipated being busy for most of the weekend and had left the majority of her work at school. Exercise was another good distraction. Olivia had been captain of the swim team in high school, and she still loved to get a few laps in whenever she could. But she couldn't right now, not if she wanted to keep her outfit intact for the Davis Corporation party.

_Why am I even going to this party, anyway?_

Olivia opened her eyes and very, very carefully patted away the tears that clung to her lower lids. A glance at the clock told her that it was only a little past six. Edison was now not coming until eight. What was she going to do with herself, all dressed up, for the next two hours?

She briefly considered calling Abby or Quinn to see if one or both of them would be up for meeting her at the bar for a drink, but she quickly decided against it. She was sure they would be willing, but Olivia wasn't in the mood to explain what had happened or to hear their scathing remarks about Edison. And besides, Quinn was happily married and Abby was just as happily engaged. They both probably had plans with their significant others that night, and Olivia didn't want to disrupt them. Harrison was another possibility, but even he had been pretty hung on some girl lately—a Samantha or a Tabitha, something like that. Harrison went through ladies so fast that Olivia could never keep their names straight.

_We should be friends_.

Olivia's mind inevitably wandered to Fitz, and for once she didn't try to fight it. She wondered if he was serious, wanting to be friends with her. He'd offered to take her out, buy her a drink for her birthday. He barely knew her. That had to be just something he'd said in the heat of the moment. Or maybe not. Maybe he truly, genuinely liked her. Maybe he felt the same connection with her that she felt with him. Maybe he wanted to get to know her better.

Olivia contemplated actually calling Fitz. It was stupid and reckless and exactly what she wanted to do at that moment. She wanted to hear his voice, see his face. She liked the way he looked at her, the way he spoke to her. Whether he meant to or not, he always knew how to make her feel appreciated.

Not to mention that she really wanted to sleep with him again.

Olivia shook her head and took another sip of wine to clear her thoughts. She couldn't call Fitz. They couldn't be friends. There was no way she could ever be _only_ _friends_ with him.

Sighing, Olivia picked up the bottle of wine and her glass and brought them both with her into the living room. She settled down on the sofa in front of CNN, prepared to moderately pace herself as she drank the next two hours away.

* * *

Two and a half hours later, Olivia slipped wordlessly into the passenger seat of Edison's silver 2014 Audi A8. She slammed the door forcefully behind her, knowing that rough treatment of his precious vehicle irritated him, and faced forward stoically. She didn't spare Edison a single glance.

"Olivia, I'm sorry. I never meant to—"

"Save it, Edison."

Olivia had caved and called Harrison while she waited for Edison to show up. Fortunately, Harrison wasn't busy and listened sympathetically while she ranted about Edison. They talked for over an hour—with Olivia making a slow but steady dent in her bottle of wine along the way—and thanks to Harrison's never-failing ability to cheer her up Olivia was no longer feeling sorry for herself. She was just mad—_extremely _mad—and she wasn't planning on getting over it anytime soon.

Edison fell silent as he pulled the car out of the driveway, but Olivia could feel him stealing side-glances at her. She refused to give him the satisfaction of looking his way.

"You look beautiful," he finally said, "Is that a new dress? I don't remember it."

Olivia didn't respond. Inexplicably, Edison seemed to take that as a cue to lean in and kiss her cheek. Olivia flinched and pulled away from him before his lips could touch her skin, putting her hand up in between them to stop Edison from leaning closer.

"Olivia, don't be that way," Edison sounded like he was lecturing a small child. Olivia hated it.

"Don't touch me."

Edison frowned as he shifted fully back into his seat.

"I'm sorry, Liv. You know I'm sorry."

Olivia said nothing.

"I can make it up to you tonight," Edison tried again. He reached for her hand but Olivia yanked it away and shot him a warning glare, "I promise to take you out onto the dance floor. And depending on how the night goes maybe we can duck out of the party early. We can come home and light some candles and get you out of that pretty dress…"

Olivia actually felt physically repulsed at the idea of sex with Edison. It was never that big of a turn on anyway, and now it was just…no. She could never do it. Not with the way he'd been treating her, and especially not with the way she'd been aching for Fitz all evening long. A romantic after party with Edison did not sound the least bit appealing. Not to mention that she doubted whether Edison even had any intention of following through with his promises.

"…And we can heat up the massage oils and everything. Does that sound good?"

Olivia didn't respond.

"Liv?"

Silence. Edison sighed and let it drag on for a few moments before he spoke again.

"Well, I got you this," he said, and Olivia could see him holding something towards her out of the corner of her eye. She glanced at it and frowned. It was a small box wrapped in pretty light blue paper and tied with a silver bow, "I wanted to give it to you over dinner, but..."

"I don't want it," Olivia said resolutely, folding her arms across her chest and turning back to the window.

"You don't even know what it is."

"I don't want it."

"Come on, Liv. Just look inside."

Shooting Edison an annoyed glare, Olivia snatched the box from his hand and carefully tore open the paper. She opened the box to find a stunning set of silver diamond earrings—a pair of dangling ones along with a pair of studs. She couldn't tell where they came from, but she knew that they weren't cheap. Edison always spent an exorbitant amount of money on his gifts for her. Unfortunately for him, it wasn't gifts that Olivia truly wanted.

"They're beautiful," Olivia commented tonelessly, snapping the box shut and tossing it back into his lap, "I don't want them."

"What? Liv, I spent hours trying to pick out a pair that I thought you'd like!"

"I would've preferred if you spent those hours taking me to dinner instead."

"Olivia," Edison gave her a long, disapproving look.

"I don't want gifts, Edison!" Olivia exclaimed, exasperated. How was it possible that Edison never, ever seemed to grasp the point? "Gifts are nice but I have dozens of pairs of earrings and only _one_ husband! What I really want for my birthday is _you_, Edison! I want for you to slow down and stop working long enough to spend _one evening_ with me! I want you to realize that I fucking _hate_ these stupid office parties, and just this _once_ spend the night doing something that _I_ would like to do! Other people in your office miss these parties all the time! Why can't you?"

"Other people aren't in the position that I'm in—"

"Screw your position, Edison! I don't care about your position! What about your position as my husband?" Olivia demanded, "Don't you remember when we used to actually spend time together, and we would talk and laugh and have fun and it felt like we actually meant something to each other? That's all I wanted. I just wanted, just for a couple of hours I wanted to mean more to you than your stupid job!"

"Olivia, you _know_ that you mean more to me than my job."

"I don't know that! Why would I know that? What have we done in the last two weeks since you came back from Russia the first time that would lead me to believe that I mean more to you than your job? Have we spent any meaningful time together? Have we gone out on any dates? Have you told me that you love me?"

"I do love you, Olivia. I work all the time so that I can provide for you and—"

"_Stop_, Edison. I don't need a provider. I have a job of my own—"

"You could _never_ afford all the nice things you buy on a teacher's salary! Those shoes you're wearing would probably cost you two paychecks! And what about the house we live in? Who built you a pool and a Jacuzzi and put in that ridiculous fancy bathtub so that you can take bubble baths?"

"I don't _need_ those things, Edison! They're nice, and I appreciate them. I do. But what I really need is a husband who is there for me and who doesn't insult my career every ten minutes because I chose to do something that I _love_ instead of making billions of dollars off of a corporation that pays it's unskilled laborers mere pennies—"

"I make time for you when I can, Olivia. You know that I do."

Olivia scoffed and turned back to the window. Edison would never understand, and she was tired of trying to make him see her point of view.

"Look," Edison said gently, "Why don't we go out tomorrow night—"

"I have plans tomorrow night, Edison. You _know_ that!" Olivia exclaimed, "You _know_ that I already blew off my friends tonight so that I could come to this party with you."

"Why don't I come with you tomorrow, then?"

Olivia eyed Edison warily. She couldn't remember the last time he had willingly joined her and her friends for anything. It had been years.

"You hate my friends," she reminded him brusquely. Edison shrugged.

"I know, but if it means I get to spend time with you then I guess I'm for it."

Olivia stared at Edison for a long moment, unsure whether to take him seriously or not. He was probably just doing that thing where he said what he thought she wanted to hear in order to temporarily appease her. Even if he wasn't, she almost couldn't even imagine what it would be like to have him join her on her night out. It would probably be awful. Abby would spend the night passive aggressively tossing snide comments towards him, Harrison would stare him down all night long, and Quinn would be intimidated into silence.

"No," Olivia said flatly after a moment of deliberation.

"No?" Edison repeated as if that was the last thing he'd expected to hear.

"No," Olivia confirmed, "I want to _enjoy_ my night with my friends, not listen to you gripe about them all night long."

"Fine. How about brunch on Sunday?"

"Stop saying you'll do things that you have no intention of following through with, Edison."

"I'm going to follow through, Olivia."

"I don't believe you."

"Now you're just being difficult."

Olivia shrugged and turned back to the window once more. For once Edison took the hint and didn't say anything else. Olivia let her thoughts wander to Fitz. She wondered what he was doing right now. She pictured him at home with a glass of scotch or whiskey, relaxing in nothing but a pair of sweatpants that hung low on his hips. What she wouldn't give to be able to ditch Edison and join him, to snuggle up to his bare chest on a couch in a dimly lit living room. Olivia let herself get lost in her fantasy, and ten minutes later Edison pulled into the parking garage beneath the skyscraper that housed Davis Corporation headquarters. Company parties were always held in the grand ballroom on the ninety-eighth floor. Edison pulled the car into his assigned parking space—right next to the midnight blue Porsche that belonged to his father—and turned to face Olivia.

"Are you going to stay mad at me all night?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Olivia…" Edison reached for her hand and Olivia pulled it away for a second time.

"I told you not to touch me, Edison."

"You're overreacting. There's no need to be this upset—"

"Don't you dare start telling me how to feel," Olivia snapped. One of the first things they taught in child development courses was to never invalidate a child's feelings. Olivia had long since realized that the same could be applied to marriage therapy; _never invalidate your spouse's feelings_. Edison tried to do that to her all the time, and she hated it, "I'm allowed to feel however the hell I want and it is perfectly fine."

"I'm just saying, Liv," Edison softened his tone, "You know that I have an image to keep up in there."

"I know."

"And I'm going to need you to—"

"You need me to play the loving, adoring wife so that all your little work friends can see how perfect your home life is," Olivia interrupted, "I'm aware."

"So why don't you soften up a little bit—"

"I know how this circus act goes, Edison. We've been doing it for years. I know how to fake it by now."

"Good. So when we get out of the car you'll quit the woman scorned charade and let me hold your hand."

Olivia glared at him. It had never been more obvious than it was in this moment that he truly did not care about her feelings. The only thing he cared about was getting her to go along with what he wanted. How had she ended up married to a man so selfish?

"Not until we get out of the elevator. And I'll hold your hand, but don't you dare try to kiss me in that ballroom. Not even a peck on the cheek. I'll embarrass you so much you'll regret pressuring me to come to this party in the first place."

* * *

Edison reached for her hand as soon as the elevator reached the ninety-eighth floor. Olivia took a deep breath and put on her best false happy face as she allowed him to lead her out into the hallway.

"Are you better now, Liv?" Edison muttered as they approached the set of French doors at the entrance to the ballroom. There were a few people milling about in the hallway, and Olivia smiled politely at the ones who seemed familiar.

"I'm going to behave, if that's what you're asking."

"Good."

They entered the ballroom, which was already quite full. There was a band playing and a few people were already on the dance floor while others stood around talking and nibbling on hors de oeuvres. A small crowd had gathered near the open bar, which Olivia eyed longingly. Edison led her towards the front of the ballroom to the section that was reserved for the company's top executives. Olivia could already see Edison's mother and father socializing with a small group of people, most of whom she recognized from previous work events.

They joined the group and pleasantries were exchanged. Olivia forced herself to smile politely and pretend to be every bit the adoring wife that Edison wanted to show off. She accepted compliments gracefully, hugged Alma Davis, and allowed Edison to slide a possessive arm around her waist as they joined the conversation. Olivia paid attention but didn't say much—truthfully, she wasn't the least bit interested in the inner goings-on of the company. Eventually the group broke apart and Edison led her around the ballroom, meeting and greeting with dozens of Davis Corporation employees and their significant others. After awhile Edison and Olivia separated, and Olivia found herself engaging in boring chit-chat with the wives of a few other executives.

Over an hour after they arrived Olivia excused herself from the group she was with and made her way to the bar. Edison was already there with a group of executives, and Olivia sidled up next to him.

He turned to her as she requested a glass of wine from the bartender and she smiled brightly at him, reveling in the annoyed expression on his face. If there was anything Edison hated more than Olivia drinking at home, it was her drinking in public.

"I don't know that you should be drinking right now, Olivia," he said quietly.

"Oh relax, Edison," Olivia said lightly, rubbing her hand up and down his arm. To the outsider, it would look like they were having a lighthearted conversation, "It's just one glass of wine. And you know damn well all these other wives are having a glass as well."

"All of these other wives aren't married to the Chief Operating Officer," Edison said, his tone full of warning, "You are better than them."

Olivia shrugged and accepted her drink from the bartender with a gracious smile. Edison glared at her as she pointedly took a slow sip. She smiled at him again.

"Mmm…this is delicious. Go back to your conversation, honey. I'm sure whatever they're talking about is very important. I wouldn't want you to miss it."

With that, Olivia sauntered off in the direction of Sandra Harding, wife of Chief Sales Officer Ned Harding and a state senator herself. Sandra was one of the few women at these events who Olivia genuinely liked. She was driven and successful and _interesting_ to talk to, unlike most of the other woefully boring housewives in attendance.

The two women hugged in greeting and Sandra immediately asked about Olivia's students, which propelled them into an animated conversation about their respective careers. They talked for nearly ten minutes before a deep frown appeared on Sandra's face.

"Watch out, Liv," she narrowed her eyes, "It looks like the slutty intern is trying to get cozy with Edison."

"The slutty intern?" Olivia asked, following Sandra's gaze. Sure enough, a tall, young brunette was now talking to Edison at the bar. Olivia watched as Edison laughed at something the woman said and she brazenly took a step closer to him.

"Yeah, Amanda Tanner," Sandra said, taking a sip of her wine, "She's an intern in some department—accounting, I think. According to Travis she's a gold-digging whore who flirts with the executives every chance she gets."

Travis was Sandra's twenty-five year old son, who was following his father's footsteps and working his way up the company.

"Apparently, she found out that Travis is Ned's son and decided to slut it up with him too," Sandra continued, "Travis assures me that he put an end to it, though."

Olivia frowned, not sure how to react to the interaction between Amanda Tanner and her husband. She wasn't typically the jealous type, and as far as she knew Edison had never cheated on her. She had never had any reason to suspect infidelity on his part; then again, he never seemed to suspect that she had once cheated on him and he was always coming up with new ways to disappoint her, so maybe she wouldn't be surprised if he was cheating.

"That girl is a sexual harassment lawsuit waiting to happen," Sandra remarked, "She has to know that Edison is married."

Olivia took a sip of her wine and watched as Amanda Tanner placed a hand on her husband's forearm. She felt a flash of irritation when Edison didn't immediately move away, but it was nothing like the jealousy she once thought that she would feel if she saw another woman blatantly flirting with her husband. What was there about Edison to get possessive of, anyway? Broken promises? Bad sex? Insensitivity? Not to mention that she had already cheated on him first, and she was very, very tempted to do it again.

Before she could comment, Edison glanced around and made eye contact with Olivia. Olivia glared at him, and he quickly pulled away from Amanda Tanner and began crossing the room towards Olivia and Sandra.

"Oh, here he comes. I'll just make myself scarce, then. I'll catch up with you later, Liv," Sandra excused herself and hurried off as Edison approached. Olivia continued to glare at him.

"What is that look for, Olivia?" Edison asked.

"What look?" Olivia asked innocently.

"_That _look," Edison said, gesturing towards Olivia's face. Olivia smiled.

"There's no look, Edison. I was just observing the fact that you let another woman touch you while your wife is fifty feet away, that's all."

"That's an intern, Amanda. She was just asking some questions about my position, that's all."

"Oh yes, and we all know that you _love_ to talk about your position."

"Dance with me, Olivia."

Olivia frowned. Was he serious? Two minutes ago he was letting another woman flirt with him and now he was over here asking her to dance?

"No, thank you."

"But you love to dance."

"Not with you," thoughts of her seductive dance with Fitz from two years ago briefly surfaced in Olivia's mind as the words left her mouth. She wished Fitz were there asking her to dance instead of Edison. She wanted to be near him again, let him hold her in his arms again.

"Olivia—"

"Edison! Olivia! What are you two doing over here?"

Olivia cringed as Alma Davis approached them from seemingly out of nowhere and stopped next to Edison, who dutifully kissed her cheek.

"Hello mother."

"Hello dear. It's not like you to hide out in the corner like this. Is everything alright?"

"Just fine, mother. Olivia was just catching up with her friend, Sandra Harding."

"Oh, Senator Harding! She's a lovely woman," Alma said, "Although she didn't spend enough time at home raising her son, if you ask me. That boy walks around here like he owns the place. He's got a different girl hanging off of his arm every day of the week!"

"He'll grow out of it," Edison assured her, "He's going to be a great businessman, like his dad."

"I hope so. Speaking of sons who take after their fathers…" Alma cast a critical eye over Olivia, and Olivia braced herself for the veiled insult that she knew was sure to come, "…Are you sure that it's wise to be drinking alcohol, dear? Edison told me that the two of you are _finally_ trying to conceive again."

"Excuse me?" Olivia asked, snapping her eyes to Edison, "You told your mother _what_?"

"I said that we want to try again _soon_, mother. _Soon_," Edison said quickly, offering Olivia a slightly apologetic shrug.

"_Soon_?" Olivia repeated. This was news to her. She and Edison hadn't talked about having a baby in months, and the last time had ended in a shouting match, with Edison indirectly suggesting that Olivia quit her job altogether and Olivia demanding that Edison cut back on the traveling and the long hours.

"Olivia, dear, you're not getting any younger," Alma admonished, "Edison tells me that you've been worried ever since the miscarriage," Olivia visibly flinched and turned to glare at Edison, but Alma either didn't notice or didn't care. She kept talking, "But women go on to have perfectly healthy babies after miscarriages all the time. Plus, this time you know to take better care of yourself. You really ought to stop working. The stress just cannot be good for a pregnancy, especially not if we want to have a nice, strong, healthy boy to take over his grandfather's company when he gets old enough. Or a girl, I suppose. Female CEO's are getting more and more commonplace, although I don't know how these girls can possibly make time for their families."

Alma finally stopped talking. Olivia was by this time glaring steadfastly at Edison, her lips drawn into a thin, angry line. Her miscarriage was not something that she liked to think about, much less discuss in a public setting, but of course Edison had gone and told his mother that she was worried about miscarrying again. Which was true, of course—what woman wouldn't be worried?—but it was far from being the only thing that stopped her from wanting to try again. Edison knew that.

Edison, to his credit, seemed to realize that Olivia was now angrier than she had been all night and that Alma had crossed a line.

"Mother, you know that the miscarriage is a sensitive subject for Olivia—"

"Of course, but I'm never going to get any grandchildren if she doesn't get over it."

Olivia closed her eyes and took a deep breath, willing herself not to get too angry or emotional. She wouldn't do this in public.

"Olivia and I agreed that she should take as much time as she needs," Olivia opened her eyes as Edison tried to reach for her hand reassuringly. She pulled it away, "You will have your grandchildren one day, mother. I promise."

"Well I'd like to have them before I'm dead!"

"_Soon_, mother—"

"You said that a year ago—"

"I need to use the restroom," Olivia interrupted, her voice shaking with anger. She could not stand around and listen to another second of Edison and his mother complain about her reproductive shortcomings.

"I'll come with you, Liv," Edison said.

"No," Olivia shot him a look that clearly stated that she would make a scene if he tried to follow along, "Do not follow me, Edison."

She turned on her heel and stalked away from Edison and his mother.

* * *

Olivia didn't go to the bathroom—it was sure to be crowded, and after her conversation with Edison and his mother she didn't feel like being around _anyone_. She suddenly felt claustrophobic as she made her way across the ballroom. The room was too loud and a sea of unfamiliar faces surrounded her. Without a second thought, Olivia headed straight for the French doors and out into the hallway. Glancing around, she noticed the door to the stairs just a couple of feet away from the elevator. She pushed it open and burst into the empty stairwell, slumping against the cement wall. She let her back slide further and further down until she was in a sitting position.

When she was sure that the door had closed all the way behind her, Olivia kicked her shoes to the side and brought her knees to her chest. She tilted her forehead to her knees, covered her head with her arms, and released a muffled sob. _Finally. _She felt like she had been holding that in all evening.

_Get over it_. Alma's words echoed in Olivia's head, and she suppressed the urge to go back into the ballroom and strangle the older woman. With just a few sentences Alma had managed to make Olivia's night go from bad to incomparably worse. Olivia wasn't sure if she was more angry with Alma for her insensitive comments or with Edison, who had clearly been feeding his mother lines about Olivia's miscarriage to explain why they still weren't trying to conceive a child. They were two of the most selfish, self-serving people that she knew. And yet, they were the _only_ family she knew.

_Edison_, Olivia decided as she let tears flow freely down her cheeks—makeup be damned. She was definitely angrier with Edison.

Her miscarriage was notsomething that she liked to talk about. Edison knew that. Alma should have known that. Olivia rarely even let herself _think_ too much about her miscarriage. It had been one of the darkest moments of her life—topped only by her mother's death when she was twelve years old. Olivia's father had sent her away not long after her mother's passing. She grew up used to being alone, but she had never felt more lonely than she had lying in that hospital bed—her father a nonfactor, her husband in another city, the child that she hadn't even known she was carrying just gone. Luckily she had friends who were willing to step up and fill the void. Abby, Harrison, and Quinn had been by her side from the moment she called on them. They were her heroes.

It was true what Edison had said to Alma; the fact that her first pregnancy had ended in a miscarriage made Olivia much more nervous about attempting to conceive again. It was true that Edison had agreed to allow Olivia as much time as she needed to feel comfortable with the idea. But he had no right to tell Alma, _especially_ when he knew that the miscarriage was not the only reason why they hadn't started trying again. She and Edison couldn't agree on anything when they discussed having kids—not how many they wanted, not how many years they would wait between having them, not even potential baby names. Most importantly, they couldn't agree on which one of them would scale back at work in order to raise their future family.

Olivia let herself cry for a long time. She was tired of holding herself together, tired of playing the adoring wife when in reality she was so…_hurt_. And she was angry with Edison for his actions. And she was even more hurt and more angry that he never, ever showed the slightest hint of contrition. It never seemed to matter to him when she was upset. She was tired of it all. Olivia just wanted to sit there and hide in the stairwell for the rest of the night.

She knew that she had been gone much longer than it normally took to use the bathroom and that Edison was probably looking for her, but she didn't care. He wouldn't think to look for her in the stairwell and she had no intention of going back into the party. Edison and his image could go to hell.

Eventually Olivia raised her head and wiped the tears from her face. She thought about getting up and leaving the building. Edison had driven her there, but she could always take a cab home. She just didn't have the motivation or the energy to get up, and she definitely didn't feel like going home to an empty house. She thought about calling Harrison again, but this time she knew he was busy. He had mentioned having plans with his latest girlfriend when they talked on the phone earlier, and Olivia wasn't going to take him away from that just so he could come and try to drag her out of her misery.

Her thoughts wandered to Fitz. She wished that she were with him right now. She didn't know all that much about him, but he seemed like a pretty decent guy. She wasn't sure whether she should believe that their one-night stand meant something to him or that he had thought about her every day since, but they had gotten along very well during the field trip and she did believe that he liked her and that he would never mean to hurt her. He probably wouldn't like to see her so upset. He probably would know just the right thing to say to make her smile.

Olivia closed her eyes and let herself imagine that Fitz was sitting next to her. Her fantasy Fitz would put his arms around her and whisper reassuring words while she snuggled deep into his chest, away from all of the bad things in the world. He would rub her arms soothingly and press soft kisses to the top of her head. He would make Edison disappear, and he would make her feel so much better.

Olivia opened her eyes. She wondered what Fitz was doing right now, if he was busy. Maybe she could call him. He had said that he wanted to be friends, after all.

_Don't be stupid, Olivia._

Olivia unzipped her wristlet and pulled out her phone. Edison had called twice, unsurprisingly, but her phone was on silent and she wouldn't have answered even if she had heard it ring. Olivia scrolled through her contacts until she reached Fitzgerald Grant. She stared at it for a few moments, her finger hovering over the call button.

_We should be friends_.

His words echoed in her head. She remembered the sincerity in his voice. She remembered the dismal expression on his face when she shut him down, told him that nothing good could come out of a friendship between them. She had been lying. She knew that something _very_ good could come out of their friendship. The question was, was it morally sound for two married people to begin a friendship already knowing that they wanted more?

_We could be good friends, Olivia_.

With that promise in mind, Olivia closed her eyes and pressed the call button. She brought the phone up to her ear and listened to it ring, not at all sure about what her intentions were or what she was going to say if Fitz answered the phone.

"Hello?" his voice was low and husky, but not sleepy, and Olivia sighed in relief as it sounded in her ear. Somehow, just that one word had her feeling better already.

"Hi," she whispered, unable to speak any louder without betraying the fact that she had been crying.

"Hi."

Neither one of them said anything else, and silence stretched between them. Olivia wasn't sure how to break it. What should she say? What did she want? Well, she knew what she really wanted—to go to Fitz, wherever he was, and just have him hold her in those big, strong arms of his. But that was unrealistic. What else did she want? How could she even begin to describe to him what she was feeling right now?

"Olivia?" he finally asked, confusion obvious from his tone. Olivia panicked.

"I'm—I'm sorry," she stammered, "I didn't mean to—I shouldn't have called you. I should let you go."

"Wait a minute. Are you okay?" Fitz asked. There was genuine concern in his voice. It almost made Olivia start crying again.

"Yes," she said hastily. Then, after a second, "No."

"What's wrong?"

"I…" Olivia didn't know how to explain. She wasn't even sure if she _could_ explain. And it was a long story, anyway, "…Are you busy?"

"That depends," Fitz responded carefully, "Is this Mrs. Davis, my son's teacher, calling? Or is this Olivia, the charming and intelligent woman who I think about all the time and who I would very much like to be able to consider a friend?"

_Charming and intelligent woman._

_Who I think about all the time._

Part of Olivia hummed to life at his words. Was it possible that he really wanted her friendship? Did he mean that he thought about her all the time the same way that she thought about him?

Olivia opened her mouth to speak, but hesitated, unsure of which person she should be.

"Olivia," she said finally, "This is Olivia."

"Olivia," Fitz repeated. She shivered. She had never enjoyed the way her name sounded as much as she did when it was dripping from his lips. He made it sound soft and sweet. He made it feel like a caress, "I'm not too busy to speak to my friend, Olivia."

"You meant what you said?" Olivia asked tentatively, "You really want to be friends?"

"Of course I meant it," Fitz answered, "You're an amazing woman, Olivia. I love every second of every conversation we have. I would be honored to consider you a friend."

"Good," Olivia let out a long exhale and closed her eyes as her heart beat faster, a rush of warmth running through her at the idea of being _friends_, "I could really use a friend right now."

"What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

"No…not physically. I don't know if I can talk about it. I just…I'm at this party, the one I told you about earlier, and I need to get away. I can't stay here anymore."

"You're calling me from your husband's work party?" Fitz asked, sounding surprised. Olivia made herself not think about how awful that sounded out loud—how she was hiding from a party while her husband searched for her, calling the man she'd been yearning to sleep with for years. A man who she had just agreed to become _friends_ with. Whatever that meant.

"Yes," she answered shakily, "Well, I'm in a stairwell."

"What are you doing in the stairwell?" Fitz asked. The genuine care in his voice made Olivia's insides melt. When was the last time that Edison had expressed any concern for her whatsoever? He had done so many things that hurt her that night, and he had never once asked her if she was doing okay.

Olivia considered herself to be a fairly private person, but in that moment she wanted to blurt out everything to Fitz. He was going through a divorce, wasn't he? His marriage couldn't have been perfect. Maybe he would listen. Maybe he would understand how she felt.

Olivia held herself back. It was wrong, to complain about Edison to Fitz. It was just…wrong.

"I just…needed to get away from everyone," she said quietly.

"Why don't you just leave?"

_Good question_.

"I don't know."

Fitz didn't say anything, and the line was silent for a long moment. It wasn't like the previous silence, where Olivia had been panicking and struggling to come up with something to say. This one was more companionable, Olivia and Fitz each lost in their own thoughts.

"You can come to me, if you like," Fitz said finally, "My wife and I fight all the time. I know it's hard when you're angry. You don't want to be around them in public, you don't want to have to falsify being the perfect couple. You don't want to go home, because you know they'll eventually come home too and you'll just start arguing again. You can come hang out with me, if you need to get away for awhile…"

_Yes_. Olivia's stomach automatically tightened in anticipation. That was what she wanted, to be near Fitz. She marveled at the fact that he seemed to know exactly how she was feeling. She hadn't necessarily argued with Edison, but the sentiment was the same. She didn't want to be around him. She didn't want to be at the home she shared with him. And she didn't want to be alone with her thoughts and hurt feelings, either.

"…I'm at a bar, a friend of mine works here, but you're welcome to join me," Fitz continued, "I'll buy you a drink. It's still your birthday. I still owe you one. And we're…we're friends, right? Friends cheer up other friends when they're feeling down."

"I don't know," Olivia whispered. Every part of her body and soul was screaming _yes_. _Yes_, she wanted to join him. _Yes_, he could buy her a drink. _Yes, _they could celebrate her birthday and be friends and he could cheer her up. But her mind hesitated. Could she really leave Edison's party to go hang out with the man she'd once cheated on him with? Could she really be friends with Fitz? What would Edison do when he couldn't find her? How could she explain her whereabouts to him?

"It's just an offer, Olivia. You don't have to say yes."

But the thought of saying no pained her. Olivia hesitated for a second longer, contemplating the consequences of her actions.

"Yes," she said finally, drawing in a deep breath, "Yes, I'll join you…"

* * *

**AN: Hope that was worth the wait! Edison was an asshole. Big surprise there (NAHT). A lot of you actually guessed that he would screw up somehow and Olivia would go running to Fitz (gold stars to you guys). The rest of you thought that Fitz would be in the food business (even though I mentioned before that he's a professor, um hello, lol) and would show up at the party, which actually would have been pretty awesome too—I can just see that Olitz tension in my mind. **

**Anywho, we also learned in this chapter that Olivia had a miscarriage. Very sad, very sad. I hope that it didn't seem like it came way out of left field, though. I tried to hint at it in the last chapter but idk if I did a good job. And for those of you who are like huh wtf, we're going to find out more details about it eventually! I promise!**

**Lastly, have I mentioned lately that I love your reviews? I do. Now, who thinks they know what kind of shenanigans Olitz will get into for the rest of the night? **


	8. We're Not In A Classroom Anymore

**AN: So, after sifting through all the reviews I received for the last chapter (thanks for those, by the way!), I've come to the conclusion that you guys **_**really**_** don't like Edison. The number of curse words you guys used to describe him in reviews was just…well, it made me laugh. Which is good! I don't like Edison either! Does Liv even like him? Meh. Probs not. Unfortunately, we're all still going to have to suffer through him for a little while longer, 'cause him and Liv are still married, you know. Some of you think Olivia is an idiot. Probably, but aren't we all? We're going to learn a little bit more about her reasoning for staying married to Edison eventually. But the great news is, he's not in this chapter! So you guys go ahead and enjoy this Edison-free, Olitzy goodness of a chapter. You're welcome. **

* * *

**Chapter 7: We're Not In A Classroom Anymore**

Olivia Davis weighed heavily on Fitz's mind as he drove home from Fort Hill Elementary School. He thoroughly enjoyed every second that he spent around her, every word of every conversation that they exchanged. This day had only served to solidify what he already knew about her—that she was charming, intelligent, and beautiful. She was a fantastic teacher who loved her job. Fitz had never been more attracted to a woman, _ever_. It killed him that she was married, but he knew that he had to respect that. Still, he couldn't quite bring himself to let her go. He wanted to spend more time with her, even if it meant that he had to be just her friend.

She had instantly shut down his offer of friendship—_we are two married people…nothing good can come out of us getting drinks or doing anything else together_—but her big, brown eyes lacked conviction. They harbored a storm of emotions instead. She was torn. Fitz could see it.

She really was the most incredible woman he'd ever met.

Fitz could hardly believe that she thought he didn't remember her—he _wouldn't_ believe it, if he hadn't personally seen the sorrow in her eyes when she'd confessed it to him. If only she knew how he'd thought about her every night. If only she knew that _she_ was the reason that he separated from Mellie. Fitz wished he could have shown her what she meant to him. He _would_ _have_ shown her, if they hadn't been standing in her classroom at the time. He would have picked her up and taken her sweet little mouth with his and kissed her, just kissed her, until he was satisfied that she knew everything that he felt for her. He had had to settle for caressing her hand instead. It wasn't nearly enough.

Fitz arrived at home feeling wired. He couldn't bring himself to settle down. He poured himself a glass of scotch and sat down at his kitchen table with it, mulling over that last conversation with Olivia. He considered all of the new things he'd learned about her; that she was married to the C.O.O. of Davis Corporation and she had been for quite some time. Maybe he was deluding himself, but Fitz couldn't help but think that she sounded less than enthusiastic when she spoke about her husband, especially when she mentioned the party that she was accompanying him to that night. Was it possible that she was in an unhappy marriage too? They had no children—she had sounded sad when he asked about it, but Fitz was relieved. He knew that it was wrong and he was probably a selfish jerk, but he didn't want Olivia to have any children with her husband. If she was going to have children, Fitz wanted them to be _his_.

_I am so out of line_.

Fitz sighed and glanced around his empty apartment, wishing that he had Teddy to keep him company. He had every intention of petitioning for full custody once he officially filed for divorce—Mellie was never home for Teddy, and Fitz didn't see any reason why the child should have to spend long periods with his babysitter when he could be spending them with his father instead.

Bored and restless and unable to keep thoughts of Olivia at bay, Fitz downed the rest of his scotch and put his head down in his arms on the table. He imagined that Olivia was getting ready for her husband's party right now. She was probably getting all dressed up in front of a full-length mirror. She would have a stunning dress and flawless makeup and not a hair out of place. She would have on one of those tall sets of high heels that accentuated her gorgeous legs. Fitz wanted to place kisses on those legs, starting at her ankles and working his way up until his head was buried under her skirt. He wanted to push her panties out of the way and kiss

her center, tonguing her and tasting her until her stomach quivered and her legs trembled and she came unraveled because of him. For him.

But he couldn't. Olivia was getting dressed up tonight to stand on someone else's arm. She was getting dressed up for her _husband_. A strong twinge of jealousy hit Fitz as he wondered if she would have sex with him instead. Maybe they would do it in the shower before they got ready. Maybe he would hike her dress up and sneak in a quickie before they left for the party. Maybe he would take the time to lay her down in a bed surrounded by roses and candles, and truly make love to her. How could he not? If Fitz were her husband, he would do all three.

Frustrated by his train of thought, Fitz jumped out of his chair and moved to pour himself another glass of scotch. He needed to do something, to get out of the house, or else he was going to sit here drinking and fantasizing about Olivia Davis all night long. He needed a distraction.

Picking up his phone, Fitz thumbed through the contacts until he reached Stephen's number. It was Friday night. His friend was most likely working at the interesting combination of lounge and adult bowling alley where he was bartender, but Fitz had been known to park himself in a stool at the bar sometimes, keeping Stephen company and enjoying the free drinks sent his way. Tonight was definitely going to be one of those nights.

* * *

By the time ten p.m. rolled around, Fitz had been sitting at Stephen's bar for hours. The place was crowded, music was blasting, the dance floor was packed, and the bowling lanes against the far wall were full of action. Fitz wasn't doing much, just sitting with a glass of scotch in hand at all times, talking to Stephen when the other man wasn't busy with patrons. He was drinking slowly, pacing himself so as to maintain a decent buzz without being drunk. Olivia was still on his mind, but there was nothing he could do about that. He could drink himself into a stupor and she would still be on his mind.

Fitz was trying very, very hard not to think about how beautiful she must look on the arm of another man at that exact moment. At one point, curiosity got the best of him and he googled her husband. He wanted to see the man who was lucky enough to capture the heart of a woman as amazing as Olivia. He immediately found a biography of Edison Davis on his corporation's website. At only thirty-two years old, Edison was one of the richest men in the world. He had studied business at Georgetown, which was where he met the lovely Olivia Pope. They dated for four years before he married her in 2010—exactly a year and a half before Fitz met her at a nightclub. Edison took over the cushy executive position at his father's company just two months into their marriage.

Fitz's stomach clenched tightly as he read about the other man. He hated every single thing about Edison Davis. He couldn't help it.

"Whatsamatter with you, Fitz?" Stephen interrupted Fitz's thoughts, setting down a tray of clean cups and starting to put them away under the bar in front of Fitz.

"What do you mean?" Fitz asked.

"I mean you're sitting here all miserable looking like someone took your puppy," Stephen responded. He paused for a second, then, "It isn't Mellie is it? That bitch didn't decide to take away your week with Teddy, did she?"

"No," Fitz said with a frown, "Mellie could never _decide_ to take my son's week away from me. Not if she wants to continue to remain separated instead of divorced."

"Well, good," Stephen said, "What's wrong with you, then?"

Fitz shrugged. Stephen didn't know about Olivia. He knew that there had been a one-night stand a few years ago, but he didn't know Olivia's name or how much she meant to Fitz. And Fitz wasn't about to tell him.

"I just have a lot on my mind, I guess," Fitz said with a heavy sigh.

"Yeah? Well perk up a bit," Stephen instructed, putting away the last of the cups, "You're scaring off all the pretty girls."

He picked up the now-empty tray and moved to the other side of the bar, leaving Fitz alone with his thoughts once more. Fitz glanced around the bar. A group of guys in their early twenties occupied the couple of stools to his right, blatantly trying to flirt with the young women to the right of them. Fitz looked over the women. They were dark-haired and slender, dressed in short skirts and high heels. They were decently beautiful, but none of them could compare to Olivia. Fitz couldn't bring himself to be interested.

"See one you like?" Stephen was back and waggling his eyebrows suggestively at Fitz.

"They're okay," Fitz shrugged, "They're more your type than mine."

"Are you kidding?" Stephen asked, "I don't have a type—_every_ woman is my type, Fitz. Those girls are exactly _your_ type. Tall, brunette, thin. Just like young Mellies, the whole lot of them."

Fitz visibly shuddered. Younger versions of his wife were the very last thing he wanted to meet. Not to mention that he had never truly been that attracted to Mellie. She was passably pretty, even beautiful to some men, but Fitz had never been completely into Mellie the way that he was into Olivia.

"I think that makes me like them less, Stephen."

Stephen chuckled.

"Well, we've got to get you laid sometime, my friend. Take a look around! There are beautiful women all over the place. Don't look at that blonde in the pink dress, though. I've already nailed her a few times. Have you even slept with anyone since you left Miserable Mellie? What's the point of separating if you still aren't going to have a sex life?"

Fitz was thankfully saved from having to answer that question when a customer flagged Stephen down. He could never have explained to his friend that there was only one woman who he was even remotely interested in sleeping with—his son's teacher.

Fitz took another sip of his scotch, then swirled it around and watched the ice cubes clink together. He had been doing this for a few seconds, ignoring the world around him and losing himself in his own thoughts, when he felt his cell phone vibrate in his pocket.

Fitz glanced at the clock above the bar as he reached for his phone. Ten-fifteen. The person most likely to call him at this time on a Friday night was standing twenty feet away from him. He figured it might be Mellie. She called on occasion: sometimes to talk about their children, mostly to argue with Fitz and piss him off. Fitz was prepared to see her name on the screen and immediately hit decline, but it wasn't her. Instead, his heart soared when he saw the name of the person who he most wanted but least expected to hear from.

_Olivia Davis._

He stared at the screen, wondering briefly if he was drunker than he thought. Olivia was at a party with her husband. She had absolutely no reason to call him. He must be reading incorrectly. But no, there it was…her name blinking up at him. _Olivia Davis._ Maybe she was calling him by accident. Either way, Fitz would never pass up on a chance to talk to her—even if it was just to inform her that she had the wrong number. He slid his finger to answer the call and brought the phone up to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Hi."

"Hi."

* * *

She was upset. There was a quiet sadness to her voice that Fitz had never heard before, and from that very first whispered 'hi,' he was certain that he would do anything to make it go away. He hesitated at first, not quite sure why she was calling, but he knew instantly that she had not dialed the wrong number. His heart raced when she stumbled and stammered after a long silence, and he realized with wonder that she didn't know what to say. The cool, confident Olivia Davis was not secure with her intentions. It was then that he understood that she needed someone to talk to. She was calling to take him up on his offer of _friends_.

Tempered joy rushed through Fitz's veins at the realization that _he_ was the person she wanted to turn to, and he thought to himself that he would do anything to eliminate the hint of tears in her voice and replace it with laughter. However, even though he asked more than once, she would not tell him what was wrong.

Fitz got it, though. She was hiding in a stairwell during her husband's work party. Fitz had had enough arguments and disagreements with Mellie to know what it looked like when someone was upset with their spouse. It crushed Fitz to hear Olivia so upset. He wanted to find Edison and punch the man in the throat as punishment for not keeping Olivia happy, and on her birthday of all days.

Fitz wasn't sure what his intentions were when he invited Olivia to join him at the bar. All he knew was that she was upset, she was turning to him, and he wasn't going to let her down. He knew the feeling of not wanting to go home after a fight with a significant other. He knew what it was like to need a couple of hours away, to seek out a distraction. He could be that distraction for Olivia. He could be the friend who put a smile back on her face and coaxed a giggle from her lips. For a moment he thought she would say no, that she would opt to stay at the party and potentially hide out in the stairwell for the rest of the night. But she didn't. She said yes.

She agreed to join him. _Olivia Davis_ had agreed to leave her husband behind and come hang out with him. So what if they were supposed to be just friends now? She was the woman who Fitz wanted to spend all of his time with, and he would take her any way that he could get her. He hung up the phone feeling giddy and slightly nervous, reminding himself to keep things appropriate as he counted down the minutes until Olivia would be at his side.

* * *

Olivia stared at her phone for a few seconds after hanging up with Fitz. What had she done? Had she really just agreed to meet him at some lounge that she had never even heard of before? Could she really leave Edison's party to go and spend time with another man? One who she had cheated on him with once before, at that? Olivia contemplated the morality of her actions for a few moments before she considered all of the ways that Edison had managed to hurt her in the last six hours, and how Fitz, in just a three-minute conversation, had made her feel like he cared.

Olivia stood up and brushed the dust off of her dress, knowing exactly what she was going to do. She started down the stairs and stopped when she reached the ninetieth floor. Edison's office was on this floor, and it was the only floor where she knew exactly where the bathroom was located. She opened the door to the stairwell slowly, cautiously peeking her head out to make sure that nobody was around to see her disheveled state. The hall was empty, so she quickly made her way to the bathroom. Her hair and makeup were in desperate need of fixing if she was going to go see Fitz.

* * *

The way he looked at her from across the room ignited a hot, smoldering blaze deep in the pit of her belly.

Olivia paused in the doorway, slightly overwhelmed by the level of activity inside the lounge. It was much bigger than she'd expected from the outside. There was a bar along the right wall, bowling lanes along the far left wall, and a dance floor in the middle. Sofas and armchairs were scattered along the edges of the dance floor, and there were a few tables and booths near the bar. Olivia hugged her light cardigan tighter around her shoulders as she took it all in.

She spotted Fitz almost immediately, her body keenly aware of his even in a crowded room. He was already looking at her, a glass of scotch in hand, his eyes dark and full of something that made Olivia burn. Their eyes locked and she hesitated, doubt filling her mind once again. She shouldn't be doing this. She and Fitz didn't know each other. They were not friends. No matter how badly Edison treated her, it was wrong to walk out of his party with the intention of spending the rest of night in the company of another man. And not just any man: Fitzgerald Grant. Her one-night stand. A parent in her classroom. It was wrong.

But then he smiled at her, and every negative thought fell from Olivia's mind as she smiled back at him, her stomach fluttering as her blood began to simmer.

He did not bother to mask his appreciation of her body as she walked towards him, and Olivia suddenly felt like she was naked in a display case as his eyes raked over her figure, taking in her shimmering gold cocktail dress and sky-high black heels. His gaze lingered a little longer over the skin-tight bodice of her dress and again on her bare legs before he returned them to her face. There was now an unmistakable gleam of lust in his eye, and it made Olivia shiver.

"Olivia," he greeted smoothly as she reached him, a smile touching his lips once again.

"Mr. Grant," Olivia said, sitting down on the empty stool next to him. His eyes narrowed in displeasure, and she smiled.

"We're not in a classroom anymore—"

"Fitz," Olivia corrected herself at the same time, and his expression lightened.

"That's better," Fitz let his gaze sweep over her once more, "You look beautiful."

Olivia blushed as her heart rate quickened. Edison told her that she looked beautiful in the car, but it felt forced. He hadn't really looked at her; it was just something he said in hopes of convincing her to forgive him. But Fitz…Fitz had no ulterior motive. He was simply looking at her like she was the prettiest woman he'd ever seen. And she liked that.

"You changed your nail color," Fitz observed, and Olivia inwardly marveled at the fact that he noticed. Edison _never_ paid attention to such minor details, "And your hair has more waves. And that red lipstick…I hope he told you how stunning you look."

"I'm overdressed," Olivia murmured, ignoring Fitz's comment about Edison and glancing around at all the patrons surrounding them. Other women were in night-out attire—tight jeans, flowy tops, short skirts, and tight dresses. Olivia's cocktail dress and Jimmy Choos were out of place, "I should have gone home to change first."

"Nonsense," Fitz reached for the drink in front of him and nudged it towards Olivia, "Here. I ordered this for you. You sounded upset on the phone, so I figured you could use some alcohol quick."

"Thank you," Olivia said, accepting the cream-colored drink with a smile. She looked at it curiously, "What is it?"

"I have no idea. It's called a birthday cake. I've never had one, but that bartender over there is my friend Stephen. He swears they taste like actual cake," Fitz replied. He hesitated, "I almost ordered you a Coke and whiskey, but I wasn't sure if you were still a whiskey type of girl."

"I am," Olivia said, her smile widening as she took a sip of her drink. She had been drinking Jack and Coke the night they'd first met. _He remembered, _"But this is delicious too. It really does taste like cake. Sort of."

Fitz chuckled.

"So maybe Stephen has some talent, after all," he said. As if on cue, the bartender made his way towards them, his eyes fixed on Olivia.

"Hello," he greeted her with a Scottish accent and a look that was clearly meant to charm Olivia.

"Stephen, this is my friend, Olivia. Olivia, my buddy Stephen."

"Nice to meet you, Stephen."

"The pleasure's all mine, Olivia," Stephen picked up Olivia's hand and kissed it, prompting a scowl from Fitz.

"Would you cut it out, Stephen? Ignore him, Olivia. He thinks he's a god among all women."

Stephen frowned and Olivia smiled, amused.

"I'm just trying to be polite, that's all. You must be a special girl, Olivia. I had no idea that Fitz still knew that women exist."

"Just because I don't run through women like they're the colors of the rainbow doesn't mean that I don't know that they exist, Stephen."

"Right. My mistake, Fitz. Want me to top off that scotch for you?"

Olivia watched as Stephen refilled Fitz's glass, going over their conversation in her mind. While she had accepted that Fitz remembered her—and remembered her well, apparently—she still wasn't naïve enough to assume Fitz didn't do more than his fair share of sleeping around. But the way Stephen was talking—he made it sound as though Fitz never flirted with or even spoke to the opposite sex. Still, that couldn't possibly mean that he hadn't slept with at least one or two other women. Olivia frowned, contemplating the disturbing thought of Fitz and another woman in the very same closet that she had once occupied with him herself.

"So, Fitz, where did you find this beautiful girl?" Stephen's question interrupted Olivia's thoughts. Olivia and Fitz exchanged a sideways glance before Fitz responded.

"She's an old acquaintance, I met her a couple of years ago—"

"What? I don't recall hearing about an Olivia before."

"But we recently reconnected," Fitz continued as if he didn't hear Stephen, "She's Teddy's teacher."

"Seriously?_ You're _Mrs. Davis?"

"You've heard of me, then?" Olivia asked with a smile.

"Of course. The little munchkin is my sidekick," Stephen replied, "He tells me all about school."

Two men gestured to Stephen from the other end of the bar, and he frowned.

"Excuse me a moment, guys. Duty calls," he said before heading over to take their order. Fitz turned to Olivia as she took a sip of her drink and shifted in her stool, uncrossing and recrossing her legs gingerly. Fitz noticed.

"Do you want to go grab a booth?" he asked good-naturedly, "I'm guessing that stool can not be comfortable in that dress and those heels."

He was right, of course. Olivia could feel the backs of her thighs getting sore already.

"Sure," she agreed, glancing over her shoulder to see that there were a few empty booths available. She turned back to him with a smile, "Lead the way, Fitz."

* * *

She was incredible.

Smart. Gorgeous. Intelligent. Sexy. They settled in a booth in the corner of the lounge, shaped in a half-circle so that they were each able to look out over the rest of the room. At first Fitz tried to keep his distance, but it seemed like they were drawn to each other as they talked, each moving and shifting subtly towards the center of the booth until there was barely enough space for their hands to fit between them, until their shoulders could brush if they angled their bodies correctly. Which Fitz didn't. Or at least, he tried not to. It happened once. He couldn't help but enjoy it.

They talked for what seemed like hours about almost everything. Her friends. His studies at Georgetown. Current events. Politics. To Fitz's surprise, Olivia even knew a little bit about law—not a ton, but having a student teacher in her classroom enabled her to take free courses at whatever college the student came from, and in the past she'd taken a couple of law courses out of sheer curiosity. Fitz was impressed. Olivia was well read and quick-witted, and she wasn't afraid to express her own opinion or to challenge a single thing he said. It was hot. Fitz could spend all night and he probably still wouldn't get enough of talking to her.

Not to mention that she looked fantastic. The gold of her dress was absolutely radiant against her smooth skin, and the black trim around her waist only accentuated her curves. Her hair and makeup were flawless, and Fitz couldn't help but notice that she was wearing a similar red lipstick to the one she had worn on the night she'd put her lips all over him. After awhile she grew warm and slipped off her cardigan, exposing bare shoulders and collarbones that Fitz wanted to nibble on. Every now and then the scent of her perfume would drift over to him, and at one point Fitz had to clench his fists under the table to keep from reaching for her. Being so close to her and yet unable to touch her was torture of the very sweetest kind.

In-_fucking_-credible.

"So what made you decide to become a teacher?" Fitz asked at one point. He had just made her laugh with an amusing story from when Karen and Gerry were little, and the transition into this topic of conversation seemed natural. She had already pried into his decision to become a lawyer—and thereafter, to stop being a lawyer—and Fitz was curious about her. After all, her husband was very likely a billionaire several times over. Olivia surely didn't need to work and yet, of all things, she was a public school teacher.

"Oh…I don't know," Olivia said after a moment, a smile still lingering on her face.

"You don't know?" Fitz asked good-naturedly, "I don't believe that. You could've been anything in the world, or nothing at all, and you chose to teach. I can see that you love it. And your kids love you—_Teddy_ loves you. He always has great things to say about you in spite of the bullshit he gives you, I hope you know that."

"I do now," Olivia replied, taking a sip of her drink. She had finished the birthday cake and moved on to whiskey sours, although Fitz noted that she was drinking them slowly. She was, like him, trying to pace herself. Neither one of them was anywhere near the level of intoxicated that they had been the night they first met.

"So why teaching?" Fitz asked again. Olivia hesitated, playing with the glass in her hand for a moment before she answered.

"Well…It's true that I love the kids," she said slowly, and Fitz hung on to her every word, "I feel like I have a connection with them—sometimes I like being with them better than I like being around adults, to be honest. I always thought about becoming a teacher when I was in high school, but my dad wanted me to be a doctor or a lawyer so when I started college I was a biology major with a political science minor and I _hated _it. So I switched to education my second semester of freshman year. I always wanted to—my mother…she died when I was twelve, and it was—it was hard. We were really close and I missed her so much—I still do, actually. I was never close to my father like I was to my mother. I don't think he really knew what to do with me after my mom died, so he sent me away to boarding school…like Karen and Gerry, except I never talked to him on the phone and I never went home on the weekends and after awhile I didn't even go home for the summer. And it was…it was lonely. I made friends and they were nice but…I don't know, I missed my mom so much, and I didn't really have another adult. I always wished that there was someone that I could talk to…about school or boys or puberty or anything, really. And so I went into teaching because I wanted to be that adult for other children. I like to nurture them and watch them grow, but I also like when they trust me enough to turn to me when they're having a bad day or when something's bothering them. I like to just…be there for them, you know?"

She looked at him, and Fitz saw a glimmer of sadness in her big, expressive brown eyes. His heart melted, and he reached out to cover one of her hands resting on the table with his own. He didn't think twice about it. It felt natural. She glanced down at their connected hands, then back up at him.

"Olivia," he said slowly, wanting to make sure she heard every word, "I am so, so glad that my son has a teacher like you in his life. You care and it shows and if he has another teacher who is half as genuine as you are then he'll be a lucky kid. And I'm sure there are going to be plenty of families after us who will be fortunate enough to have you looking out for their children."

"I hope so," Olivia's fingers twitched under Fitz's hand, and for a second he thought she would pull them away. But she didn't. Instead, she leaned closer to him, her shoulders now permanently touching his. He tried not to notice it, "It's one of the things we argue about sometimes, me and Edison…he doesn't like that I teach. I think he thinks that it's some hobby that I'm going to get tired of eventually. He wants me to quit and pop out a bunch of babies for him—"

"Don't," Fitz interrupted vehemently, and Olivia raised her eyebrows at him. The thought of Edison being so disrespectful of Olivia and her career made him angry, and the thought of her quitting to have his children…he didn't want to think about how much that bothered him, "Don't quit. That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

"Isn't it, though? Edison's mother is a stupid, arrogant housewife. He's spoiled. He thinks I'm going to be just like her."

"Did your father get mad when you decided to become a teacher?" Fitz asked curiously.

"He hasn't spoken to me since," Olivia replied softly.

"Really?"

Olivia nodded, and Fitz frowned at the sorrow in her gaze. He wished he knew exactly what to say that would take away that sorrow and replace it with laughter once again.

"It looks like we have something in common, then. My mother died when I was a teenager and I don't speak to my father much, either."

"Really?"

"Yup. I'll tell you all about it one day, if you're good."

"I'm gonna hold you to that."

"I hope you do."

She smiled. Just like that, she was smiling again and all was right in Fitz's world. He finished off his drink and watched as she finished off hers and shot him a devious look.

"Do you play pool, Mr. Grant?"

Fitz groaned.

"Don't start calling me Mr. Grant again—"

"Fitz," Olivia corrected herself, flashing him a radiant smile, "Do you play pool, _Fitzgerald_?"

"Fitzgerald? You sound like Teddy's mother when she's mad—"

"Just answer the question, Fitz."

"Yes, I play pool, _Olivia_."

"Care to have your butt kicked by a girl?"

"You aren't going to beat me, Olivia. I practically live in this building on weekends. I've had a lot of practice."

"Well, so have I."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. My friend Harrison joined a frat with a pool table in college, and I was the champion."

Fitz chuckled; then he remembered something.

"Wait, Harrison? Isn't that purple button down?"

"Purple what?" Olivia looked momentarily confused, until suddenly she remembered too, "Oh! Yes, purple button down. That's him."

"I didn't like him," Fitz said, narrowing his eyes at Olivia.

"Why not? I can't believe you still remember what he was wearing, Fitz."

"He was dancing with you and he had his hands on you and I didn't like it."

Olivia laughed heartily.

"There was no need to be jealous. Harrison is like the little brother I never wanted," she said jokingly. Then she lowered her voice and ran her free hand through her silky locks, "Besides, if I recall, Harrison only had his hands on my waist. _You're_ the one who I let put his hands _all over me_, weren't you Fitz?"

Her eyes twinkled with mischief and her voice dripped with seduction. Fitz stared at her, mouth open. This was the first time either of them had alluded to anything that had happened inside that closet or done anything that couldn't arguably have been done between a pair of very good, close friends, and Fitz couldn't believe those words had actually left her mouth. His crotch tightened distinctively, and she was so close to him. He felt the deep, primal urge to grab her and drag her off somewhere where he could be alone with her.

She smirked at him. The little minx.

"Come on," she said, suddenly pulling her hand out of his and jumping out of her seat. Fitz reeled from loss of contact with her and wanted nothing more than to pull her back to him, "Come show me what you can do with a pool table, Fitzgerald…"

* * *

**AN: Yes, I **_**did**_** just cliffhang you like that.**


	9. Next Time

**AN: Ohmygosshhhhh. Sorry I disappeared on you guys. I seriously didn't mean to cliffhang you for forever plus ten days. It's just, I make time for writing almost every day but sometimes the words come…and sometimes they don't. These last two weeks have had a lot of **_**don't**_** days. Asjfvsfklmdsjfffff. That's how I feel about that, lol. **

**Anywho, many thanks as always to all of you who've left reviews. Special thanks to those of you who left me reviews/PMs within the last few days requesting that I hurry the f*** up (although you were all much politer about it). You guys are super cool. But yeah, I'll stfu now. Happy reading!**

* * *

**Chapter 8: Next Time**

It was a close game, but she was winning.

They were each competitive by nature and the air was thick with rivalry. Olivia liked that Fitz challenged her. He was just as good a player as she was, and he was quick to respond to her playful trash-talk with cunning words of his own. Olivia hated playing pool with Edison because he acted like she was some silly little girl who didn't know how to play the game—always offering unwanted criticism and advice in order to satisfy his need to feel masculine. Fitz didn't do that. He regarded her as an equal.

Olivia surveyed the table critically for a moment before moving in to take her next shot. She leaned over at the waist, keeping one leg completely straight while slightly bending the one in front of it. She arched her back and let her dress ride up the backs of her thighs a little bit—not enough to be indecent, just enough to tease. She moved slowly, taking her time and experimenting with the angle of her shot. She didn't have to look to know that Fitz was watching from behind her, his irises a dark, stormy gray. She could tell that he wanted her, and it made her insides burn with a warm, fuzzy feeling. She liked it. She knew she shouldn't, but she did. Edison never looked at her with such blatant desire, never made her feel as…beautiful, sexy, _wanted_ as Fitz did. Olivia liked the feeling, so she had been baiting him for the entire game, offering him unobstructed peeks at various parts of her body—her cleavage, her ass—as she bent over the pool table. Maybe the alcohol in her system had clouded her judgment, but it seemed fairly harmless. Innocent. Fun.

"Yessss..." she cheered, smiling victoriously as she sank the solid green ball. It was the very last solid; now she only needed to sink the eight ball to win. Fitz, who had been winning at first, still had two striped balls left on the table.

"Nice shot," he commented. She turned to find him leaning against the wall behind her, cue in hand, eyes not-so-subtly lingering near her backside before he raised them to meet hers. Their eyes held for a charged moment, then Olivia smirked and faced the pool table once more, thoughtfully contemplating her next shot.

"Watch this," she said confidently before stepping forward and taking her shot. The eight ball bounced off the side of the table just inches from the pocket and rolled to a stop near the middle.

"Ha!" Fitz exclaimed triumphantly, moving away from the wall, "That was a nice try Liv, but let me show you how it's really done."

Olivia watched him as he studied the table and unconsciously bit her lip when he leaned forward to take his shot. He looked so…_good_, standing there with the sleeves of his blue dress shirt rolled up to his elbows. She liked that shirt. It fit him just snugly enough to highlight the strength in his arms, the broad muscles of his chest. She itched to slip her hands under it, to see what he felt like against her fingertips. Instead, she let her eyes roam over the rest of him—hair unruly, brow furrowed, lips pressed together in concentration…

_God_, he was hot. Olivia shifted her legs in attempt to soothe the ever-growing ache between them. Fitz glanced up at her and returned the smirk she'd given him earlier—she got the impression that he was aware of the reason behind her fidgeting—before effortlessly sinking both of his remaining striped balls in one shot.

Tie game.

"_That_, Olivia," he said, straightening up and walking towards her, "Is how it's done."

Secretly impressed, Olivia opened her mouth to make a smart comment; the words died on her lips when he continued walking until he was well within her personal space, stopping only when his body was mere inches from hers. He was so close, she could feel the heat radiating off of him as the musky scent of his cologne set her hormones haywire. His smoky eyes focused on hers and a predatory smile made its way across his face. Olivia involuntarily dropped her eyes to his lips. They were so close. He could so easily kiss her. He could just lean forward a little bit and place his hands around her waist and…

"It's your turn, Livvy," Fitz interrupted her thoughts. She frowned and met his eyes again with a questioning look.

"Livvy?"

He shrugged.

"Sorry, that just slipped out."

"Don't be sorry," Olivia flashed him a saucy grin, "I like it."

With that, she moved past him, making sure her left arm brushed against his right one and ignoring the tingle of electricity that resulted as she went to set up her shot.

"Good," Fitz called after her, "I'm going to call you that all the time."

"Please do," Olivia murmured as she struck the cue with a little too much force. It missed the eight ball and hit the side of the pool table instead. She swore under her breath and turned to face Fitz who was, of course, watching her more than he was the pool table.

"Did you just curse?" he asked her with a sly smile. She felt inclined to wipe it off of his face. Or kiss it off. Either one.

"Yes," she said defiantly as he took a few steps closer to her. She involuntarily thought of Edison and how he hated it when she swore—_cursing is unbecoming of you, Olivia_. She cringed.

Fitz, on the other hand, seemed amused.

"I had no idea that such naughty words could come out of that pretty little mouth."

"Oh, I can do a lot of naughty things with this mouth, Fitz," Olivia smiled sweetly and moved past him, going to lean against the wall while she waited for him to take his turn. When she turned back around it was to see that Fitz was staring after her, not moving. The look of pure lust in his gaze was enough to steal her breath away and replace it with the sudden, primal urge to push him back onto the pool table and straddle him.

"It's your turn," she reminded him after a moment, shaking her head to clear the inappropriate thought. They were in a room full of people—she couldn't have done that even if they were both free agents. Fitz continued to look at her for a moment before he turned and took his shot. He missed, and Olivia came forward to take her next turn.

Fitz didn't move away from the table, and Olivia was acutely aware of him standing very close to her as she bent to find her angle. He took a step to his right just as she was about to shoot, and suddenly his body was close—_indecently_ close—behind hers.

His nearness sparked a jolt in her stomach. Olivia gasped and let her eyes fall shut as the heat of him behind her caused the dull twinge between her thighs to intensify into a powerful throb. She wanted to push her hips back until they connected with his, until she could grind them slowly against him while he slid his fingers underneath the hem of her dress. Every part of her body ached for the sweet release she knew he could give her.

But she couldn't. There was a wedding ring on her finger. The first time she had cheated on Edison had been unplanned, unintentional. She had simply gone with the flow of the chemistry between herself and Fitz, not giving herself time for hesitation or conscious thought. This, today, was different. She had come here knowing that Fitz would be here, knowing that she was attracted to him. Flirting with him was one thing, but touching him was another. She wasn't sure that she wanted to cross that line, to become one of those women who went somewhere with the intention of cheating on their husbands.

But, _oh_, it was tempting.

Olivia opened her eyes and tried to refocus on the table in front of her. With shaky hands, she took her turn. She missed and didn't care.

She straightened up until she was parallel to Fitz, her back to his chest, their bodies separated by mere centimeters. Every fiber of her being was on edge as he shifted and lowered his lips to her ear.

"I can be a tease too, Livvy," he murmured to her, his tone husky and seductive. Liquid pooled between her pulsing thighs as his warm breath tickled her skin. On instinct, she tilted her head to the side, exposing the column of her neck to him. _Offering_ it to him.

All she wanted was for him to touch her anywhere. Or everywhere.

Fitz moved his lips down to the soft spot where Olivia's neck joined her shoulder and held them there, hovering millimeters above her skin. She heard him inhale deeply before a quiet, strangled groan left him.

"_God_, I love the way you smell. You're fucking beautiful, do you know that? I just want to…" he didn't finish his sentence as his hands came up to hover around her waist.

_Yes_. Olivia's body was burning with anticipation, screaming for him to touch her. He didn't. His fingers flexed near her waist as if he were fighting for self control before he let them fall to his sides. A soft noise of disappointment slipped from her throat.

"Turn around, Livvy," he commanded. Olivia whirled around to face him without a second thought, locks of hair falling into her face as she spun too quickly. She didn't brush them away. She _couldn't_ brush them away. All of her thoughts, all of her energy was focused solely on the man in front of her. Her eyes zeroed in on his lips. A war raged inside her mind.

_Leave him alone, Olivia._

_Fuck, I __**want**__ him._

_You shouldn't kiss him._

Olivia stood stock still, indecision rendering her unable to make a move, as Fitz reached out and gently swept her hair back behind her ears. He slid his palm forward to cup her cheek. His eyes searched hers intently, and she couldn't help but lean into his touch. He tenderly brushed his thumb across her mouth before tugging her lower lip downward. Olivia sighed and let her eyes flutter shut, allowing herself to relax and enjoy the pleasant sensations that filled her as Fitz did whatever it was that he was doing to her.

_Kiss me, Fitz._

It only took a few moments before she felt him take a step closer to her, eliminating all remaining space between their bodies. Their chests pressed together and Olivia's entire being hummed to life as he angled her face upwards and gently touched his lips to hers.

* * *

At first Fitz wasn't sure if Olivia knew what she was doing to him. Did she realize that her dress rose every time she leaned over the pool table, exposing the backs of her soft thighs? Did she realize that she was making Fitz want to grab a hold of her ass and pull it back into him? That was if he was standing behind her. If he was standing on the other side of the table then it was her cleavage that peeked out at him each time she took her turn, teasing him, reminding him of the time she had urged him to cup her breasts in his hands, of how she had arched her back and moaned with pleasure as he did exactly what she wanted.

He tried to be a gentleman and avert his gaze, but it was hard. He gave up about halfway through the game, after she glanced up just before taking her shot and caught him staring at her breasts. The smug, flirty grin she flashed him had his dick hardening in his pants.

Yes, she knew what she was doing to him, and it was now clear that she was enjoying it. So Fitz stopped bothering with the pretenses; if Olivia wanted his attention, he would make it obvious to her that she had it.

What he really wanted to do was say to hell with the game they were playing, to take her and lay her out on the table and get on top of her and make out with her, touch her, feel her up like there was no one else in the room. He wanted her lips on his and her hands on his chest and to hear the sounds she made when he played her just right, like the sweetest of musical instruments. But he held himself back. He now knew that she was somebody's wife. As much as he wanted her, he had never thought of himself as the type of guy who would deliberately violate the sanctity of another man's marriage. She was angry with her husband, and Fitz wasn't really sure of the reason, but every marriage had its ups and downs. It didn't mean that she wouldn't get over it, that her husband didn't love her or treat her well. It didn't mean that her marriage was doomed to fail like his and Mellie's. So, while Fitz let himself get close to her, he didn't touch her.

But, _oh_, she was tempting.

He almost lost control when she looked at him with that saccharine smile and informed him that she could do plenty of naughty things with her mouth. The visual that accompanied those words—of her on her knees in front of him, of him grabbing a fistful of her hair while he slid his fully hardened member between her lips—left Fitz unable to move or speak, his brain fizzling uselessly until she reminded him that it was his turn. He stood right behind her during her next turn with the sole intention of teasing her, of getting her as hot and bothered as she was getting him, but when she straightened up they were so close that he wanted to do nothing more than grip her hips and pull her back into him.

He didn't. He ordered her to turn around instead. He wasn't sure what happened to his resolve after that. All he knew was that she was so beautiful and standing so close to him, locks of hair falling into her face. She was all soft skin and pouty lips and her eyes—ever since the night he'd first met her he had been able to read her through those big, soulful eyes. And right now they were smoldering with desire, focused intently on his mouth.

So, without giving any further thought to her marriage or his marriage or how they were very much in a public place, Fitz closed the distance between them, slid a hand around her tiny waist, and kissed her.

* * *

Olivia's hormones were on a rampage. Her entire body was ablaze from wanting this man. She burned, pulsed, throbbed, yearned…It was unbelievable how responsive she was to Fitz's every move. His chest felt warm, solid pressed against hers. His lips brushed hers softly, tenderly, eliciting sensations from somewhere deep inside Olivia, feelings that she didn't even know could exist. They engulfed her, pulled her under, took over all sense of rational thought until she was kissing him back, her lips moving in slow tandem with his.

Their kiss was gentle. Sweet. All lips, no tongue. No pushing or prodding or prying; just reveling in the amazing way their bodies reacted to a simple kiss. Olivia brought her hands up to fist the material of his shirt. She could feel the heat, the tightly-wound passion simmering beneath the surface of him. All she had to do was give him a sign, deepen the kiss, and he could and would release that passion on her. He was like an animal sitting on her leash. It was thrilling.

Kissing him was incredible. Amazing. Wonderful. Olivia wasn't thinking about Edison or his party, but somewhere deep in the pit of her mind there was a faint, niggling sense of caution. She should be careful. Kissing Fitz was like striking the fuse on a stick of dynamite, like lighting a match next to a propane tank.

As far as Olivia was concerned, they weren't kissing for very long at all before someone at the next pool table over cleared their throat and loudly commented about the others who would probably like to play pool if Olivia and Fitz were done. Snapped rudely back into reality, they broke apart. Olivia opened her eyes in time to see Fitz smile softly at her before he stepped to the side and effortlessly sunk the eight ball into the center pocket, winning the game.

* * *

"You're yawning."

"No I'm not."

"Oh really?"

"Okay, fine. I am."

"You're tired."

"A little. It's been a long day. And a long night."

"That's true," Fitz conceded, "This morning feels like ages ago. What time is it?"

Olivia slipped her phone out of her wristlet. In addition to displaying the time, the device also informed her that she had a whopping 48 missed calls, 21 voicemails, and 97 text messages. All were from Edison. Other than to shoot him a brief _'I left,'_ text message while she was in the cab on her way to Fitz, Olivia had been ignoring her phone all night. She had put it on silent and kept it hidden away in her wristlet, unwilling to deal with Edison and his demanding messages.

"It's 1:38," Olivia told Fitz, quickly scrolling through her messages.

_Where are you?_

_Did you go home?_

_Do you know how rude it is to walk out in the middle of the party?_

_Answer me now!_

_This isn't funny, Olivia._

_My mother is furious._

_WHERE ARE YOU?!_

"Whoa," Fitz peered over Olivia's phone. Olivia frowned at him, and he quickly apologized, "Sorry, I wasn't trying to be nosy. I couldn't help but notice…Did you not tell him where you were going?"

Olivia sighed and decided to overlook his intrusiveness. They were sitting awfully close together, after all. Her phone was practically in his face. After regaining full use of her faculties post-kiss, Olivia had found herself annoyed that she lost the game and challenged Fitz to a rematch. They played another round of pool in which Olivia had soundly defeated Fitz. There had been no more kissing, but the second round had featured a considerable amount of touching—they would stand shoulder-to-shoulder, Fitz would let his hand drift across the small of Olivia's back, Olivia would allow her body to brush firmly against his as she walked by. There was a big part of her that wanted to take Fitz by the hand and drag him off to somewhere a little more private where they could continue their kiss, but the rational part of her knew that she shouldn't.

After the game they migrated back to the bar, where they currently sat side-by-side in stools with very little space between them. They talked and laughed while Stephen flashed them curious glances from the other side of the bar. As much as she was having fun, Olivia was inevitably beginning to feel sleepy. Between the field trip and Edison's party and hanging out with Fitz, it had been an exhausting rollercoaster of a day.

"No, he has no idea where I am," Olivia murmured in response to Fitz's question, "I didn't even say goodbye."

Fitz's eyes widened.

"Really?" he asked in surprise. Olivia shrugged.

"Yeah…I know I shouldn'tve left but he just…I didn't want to be there," she said. As much talking as she and Fitz had done all night, this was the most either one of them had said about Edison. Olivia was fairly certain that Fitz had been aware that she was crying when she called him on the phone, but so far he hadn't asked her about it and she wasn't eager to offer him an explanation. He offered her a sympathetic smile and leaned in a little closer.

"I don't care what went on between the two of you," he said gently, "He shouldn't have let you get so upset. It's your birthday…He should've been treating you like a queen. Breakfast in bed, roses at work, candlelit dinner—"

"Is that what you do for your wife?" Olivia interrupted. The mere thought of Edison planning any of those things for her was laughable.

"Mellie?" Fitz frowned, "No. My relationship with Mellie has never been…what it should have been. But if _you_ were my wife…for you, I would do _anything_."

Olivia's heart skipped at the candor of his tone.

"Well," she said flippantly, angling her body away from him slightly. He was so close, and she couldn't handle the sincerity and intensity with which he was studying her right now, "It's too bad you and I aren't married, isn't it?"

"It is," she had meant the remark to be sarcastic, but the way Fitz agreed so earnestly made her glance up at him. His expression was full of something that she could only describe as longing. It mirrored the emotions swirling deep in Olivia's stomach.

_If only we had met each other sooner…_

Olivia shook her head to clear the thought.

"Well we're not," she stated matter-of-factly, "You're married to Mellie—"

"I'm getting a divorce," Fitz reminded her.

"…And I'm married to Edison, who…is nice, _sometimes_, when he's not being a complete jerk—"

"He doesn't treat you well?" Fitz interrupted. Olivia paused for a moment, thrown off by the deep, disapproving frown on his face. She wasn't sure if this was something that they should really be talking about.

"He…loves his job," she explained carefully, "It's his priority. He's away a lot, he works late nights…I come second. Tonight he was supposed to take me to dinner for my birthday. It was supposed to be a compromise because I hate going to those stupid corporate parties. But something came up and he…I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up. It's not the first time."

"I'm sorry, Livvy," Olivia marveled at the fact that Fitz truly, genuinely sounded upset, "I hope you know that you deserve so much more than to be someone's second priority."

Olivia shifted uncomfortably as some of the pain and anger from earlier that night came flooding back, as well as a small twinge of guilt for leaving Edison's party to go see another man. Thankfully, she didn't have time to dwell on it before Stephen appeared in front of them, bottle in hand.

"Last call, guys. Refill?" he asked. Fitz glanced at Olivia, who tried but failed to stifle another yawn.

"No thanks man," he said, "I think we should head out before Liv falls asleep in her chair."

He gave her a playful nudge. Olivia smiled and swatted him away.

"If you say so," Stephen said with a shrug, "It was nice to meet you, Olivia. Fitz, tell the little man I said hello. Drinks are on the house, as always. Feel free to come back and keep me company anytime…"

* * *

"Do you seriously not have a coat?" Fitz asked as they headed for the door a few minutes later. Olivia smiled sleepily. The moderate alcoholic buzz she'd once had was wearing off, and exhaustion had caught up with her full force.

"No," she said, drawing her cardigan tighter around her shoulders. At Fitz's disapproving look, she explained, "I didn't plan on having to be outside at all. I went from house to garage to car to garage to elevator to ballroom."

"Here," Fitz shrugged off his own heavy leather coat and handed it to her without a second thought.

"Fitz, no," Olivia protested. He was left in only his dress shirt, "You're going to be cold. At least I have on a sweater."

"You're going to freeze in that thing," Fitz said, "Put the coat on. I can handle a little cold."

Olivia frowned and held on to the coat for a moment, hesitating.

"_Put it on, Liv_," Fitz said impatiently.

"Alright, I will!" Olivia exclaimed, tugging her arms through the sleeves and wrapping the large coat around her small body. It was warm and cozy and it smelled like him. Olivia closed her eyes and took a slow, deep breath, enjoying the spicy scent of his cologne. It was so soothing. She would sleep in this thing if she could.

"Ready?" Fitz asked her.

"Yes," Olivia responded.

"Good," he pushed the front door open, and they were immediately assaulted by a bitter, icy blast. Temperatures had been far, far below normal this year—something about a polar vortex—and the low temperature tonight was expected to dip well below zero.

"Oh my God, Fitz, I cannot believe you are not wearing a coat," Olivia instinctively stepped closer to him and he tucked her under his arm. She wrapped her arm around him, hoping to offer him some semblance of warmth.

"Don't worry about me, Liv. Where's your car?"

"I need to hail a cab."

"What?" Fitz shook his head, "No. I'll drive you home."

"But Fitz—"

"Olivia, I am not going to let you take a cab home by yourself this late at night when you're already tired. I'll give you a ride. Don't worry, I can stop up the street so that your husband doesn't see me if he's waiting up for you. I'll do whatever you want, but I am not letting you take a cab."

* * *

She had fallen asleep on his shoulder.

Fortunately, it hadn't taken Fitz very long to convince Olivia to let him give her a ride home. It was frigid and she was too tired to argue, especially when she realized that his car was parked less than half a block away from the building. Fitz remotely started the engine and turned up the heat on his black Mercedes Benz C-Class, and by the time he helped Olivia inside it was already beginning to get nice and toasty.

Fitz had barely pulled away from the curb when Olivia laced her arm through one of his and rested her head on his shoulder. She glanced up at him, and he smiled to let her know that it was okay. He loved touching her any way he could, loved that she trusted him enough to lean on him. They talked for a couple of minutes, but Fitz could tell Olivia was getting sleepier and sleepier. It wasn't long before she stopped responding to their conversation completely; she was fast asleep.

Fitz followed his GPS and let her sleep the entire rest of the way to her home. Her weight on his shoulder, her scent washing over him just felt so…_good_. Perfect. Right. She fit him snugly, like a missing puzzle piece. Fitz knew right then and there that—in another, less-cruel universe where neither one of them was married—he could do this with her forever.

Fitz thought back to their kiss earlier and how it had left him pining for more of her. It hadn't been the right time or the right place for a deep, all-consuming make-out session. Plus, they were _supposed_ to just be friends. Even though she had clearly welcomed it, the last thing Fitz wanted to do was violate Olivia's trust. He didn't want her to wake up tomorrow morning and wonder what the hell she had done. He wondered what their kiss meant for them, for their alleged friendship. This night with her had been the most fun he'd had in a very long time. He wondered if she would want to do it again.

Olivia sighed and mumbled something unintelligible in her sleep, and Fitz felt a tug at his heartstrings. She was so amazing. Every little thing about her fascinated him.

He took his eyes off the road at a red light and buried his face in her hair, letting the sweet scent of her shampoo wash over him. He briefly considered what it would be like to wake up in the morning with her soft body snuggled up to his, her hair in his face like it was now. He was pretty sure it would be the best feeling in the world. The light turned green but Fitz still lingered in her hair for a moment, unwilling to let the fantasy go, before he pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head and resumed driving.

_I love you_.

The stray thought popped into Fitz's head, and he knew instantly that it was true. He hadn't known it at the time, but he'd loved her ever since he first spotted her walking towards the bar in a black mini-dress. He'd thought about her every day since. She consumed his mind all the time. And while he wanted her physically, of course, Fitz had learned in the last few weeks that he felt more alive than he ever had in his life just by being around her. He loved her personality, and he enjoyed nothing more than to see her smile or hear her laugh. He wanted to see her happy all the time, and he was positive that he would do anything to make that happen—bring her the moon, slay dragons, offer her his coat on a subzero night.

There wasn't a thing about Olivia Davis that he didn't love.

Except her husband.

Fitz frowned as he thought of Edison Davis and Olivia's hesitant revelation that he had cancelled their plans to celebrate her birthday. For a moment, she had sounded just as quiet and sad as she had over the phone a few hours earlier. Her words replayed in his mind—_I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up. It's not the first time_. Fitz had always assumed that Olivia's marriage was a happy one; this was the first time he'd received any solid evidence to suggest otherwise. His hatred for Edison grew tenfold at the thought of the other man not treating Olivia with respect and consideration. She deserved so much better.

_He_, Fitz, could give her so much better.

Fitz brushed away the thought as he turned onto what the GPS was telling him was Olivia's street. Olivia was not his to love. She belonged to another man. He was probably jumping to conclusions about her marriage to Edison. It couldn't be as bad as he was thinking. The other man had most likely just gotten busier than he expected this one time, and was now planning ways to make it up to Olivia.

Fitz took in his surroundings as he drove down the street. They were just outside the city, in a wealthy suburb where Mellie had once suggested that they look into buying a house before they'd settled on the one Fitz had recently moved out of. The houses here were large and set far back from the street—quite a few were surrounded by gates, passcodes, and state of the art security systems. Judging by the amount of money her husband made, Fitz had a feeling that Olivia's house would be among them.

He was right. His GPS signaled that he had arrived at his destination as he stopped a few feet away from a long, winding driveway blocked off by tall gates. He could see a touchpad for either ringing the doorbell or keying in the password. Through the gate he could see a massive, snow-covered lawn and a sprawling mansion behind it.

It reminded him of his father's house, the house he'd grown up in.

Fitz put the car in park and rested his cheek against the top of Olivia's head. She was still sleeping peacefully, and he hated that he had to wake her. He hated that she had to leave him now. If it weren't for Edison, Fitz would bring her home with him and never let her go. As it was, he knew that it wasn't safe for him to stall here in case Edison was somehow watching.

Fitz closed his eyes and savored the feel of Olivia sleeping on him for a brief second before he opened them and kissed the top of her head again. He laced his fingers through hers and brought her hand up to his lips. He placed gentle kisses on each of her fingers until she stirred.

"Wake up, Livvy…" he murmured softly.

She grumbled something unintelligible without opening her eyes or lifting her head.

"Livvy, you're home," Fitz tried again, a little louder this time, "Wake up and go get in bed."

She tilted her head up to look at him as her eyes blinked open sleepily.

"Hmm?" she asked.

"We're here. You gotta go inside."

"Oh."

Fitz watched with a small smile on his face as she yawned and came back to her senses. She cut her eyes suspiciously at him.

"Were you just kissing my hand?"

"Maybe," Fitz kissed it again, and she smiled.

"You're sweet."

"Thanks."

"I don't want to go inside."

"I know. But you have to."

"Edison is going to be mad, mad, _mad_…" she shook her head ruefully and looked up at him with big, worried eyes. Fitz smiled sadly.

"He'll get over it eventually, right?"

Olivia shrugged.

"Yeah. Eventually. Probably not until after he leaves for Russia, though."

"He's going to Russia?"

"Yup," Olivia nodded solemnly, "To Sochi. Davis Corp. is the official foodservice provider of the Olympics. That's what the whole party was about."

"Right. I forgot. How long is he gone for?"

"He leaves on Sunday. He says he doesn't know when he's going to come back. I doubt he'll be back until the whole thing is over, though. He's too much of a workaholic and this account is too important to him for him to just leave someone else in charge."

"Wow. Aren't the Olympics like three weeks? That's a long time."

Olivia shrugged again, and Fitz got the distinct impression that she was very used to long absences from her husband. He bit back a comment about how if she belonged to him, he would never let her out of his sight.

"What are you going to do while he's gone?" he asked instead.

"I don't know…Work. Yoga. See my friends. Enjoy my freedom."

"Am I one of your friends?" Fitz asked, flashing her his best and most charming smile. She returned it with a genuine smile of her own.

"Don't use that flirty smile on me, Fitz…Yes. You're one of my friends."

"So does that mean you'll see me?"

"Maybe. If you're around and I'm around."'

Fitz's heart soared at her words. She was being coy, but he knew she was saying yes.

"Good. You owe me a tie-breaking round of pool."

"I look forward to kicking your butt, Fitz."

Fitz chuckled and she smiled at him, her brown eyes dancing with mirth.

"I should go inside," she said after a moment, her smile fading.

"Yeah, you should."

"Thank you for letting me wear this," she shrugged off his coat and handed it to him. It smelled like her, and Fitz had the feeling that he would be reminded of her every time he put it on for a week.

"No problem," he leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss on her cheek, "Goodnight, beautiful. I can't even see your front door from here so text me when you get inside the house so I know you're not standing out in the cold."

"Okay," she agreed as he pulled back and studied her. The way she was looking at him, her brown eyes warm and feverish, her full lips soft and enticing, made Fitz want to crush her small frame against his and take complete possession of her mouth, show her a _real_ kiss—one that was nothing like the light one they'd shared earlier. But he couldn't kiss her here. They were right in front of her house. Her husband could be anywhere.

Fitz opted to lean in for another kiss to her cheek instead. This time, to his surprise and absolute delight, Olivia deliberately turned her head as he neared and captured his mouth with hers.

They both froze for a moment, eyes open, lips lingering together softly, sweetly. Fitz wanted so badly to deepen the kiss but he hesitated, unsure of exactly what game Olivia was playing. Was she expecting simply another gentle kiss on the lips? Or was she yearning for something thorough, satisfying, toe-curling? Wasn't she worried that Edison could be nearby? He got his answer when she sighed and closed her eyes, angling her body closer to his and sliding her hands up his arms to rest on his shoulders.

_More_. She wanted more.

What was supposed to be a chaste goodnight peck transformed into a steamy, passionate kiss within seconds. Fitz shifted in his seat, gathering the curves of her waist in his hands so he could pull her closer—pressing her as firmly against his chest as the center console would allow—before darting his tongue along her lips, seeking entry. It was like she melted into him, her fingers tightening on his shoulders as her mouth opened on a whimper and she allowed him to effortlessly claim her tongue with his.

Fitz groaned as their tongues began a hot, erotic duel that had his blood boiling and rushing toward his groin. Her kiss was unlike anything he'd ever known; only _she_ could light him on fire so quickly. She met his every stroke, their tongues rubbing and thrusting together fervently, her questing hands slipping from his shoulders to roam over his pecs and upper chest. Fitz responded in kind, keeping one hand around her waist to hold her firmly in place while letting the other drift upward to cup one of her breasts tenderly. He had dreamed about these breasts every day for years—of how full and pert they were, of how her response to his touch had been the single biggest turn on he'd ever experienced. Reality turned out to be so much better than his dreams as he massaged her firmly and she briefly paused her movements with her lips still locked with his, her back arching as a quiet moan of approval left her throat. Fitz gently tapped his tongue against her lips, reminding her to resume their kiss, and she opened her mouth eagerly, her tongue sparring with his once again.

When air became a necessity Fitz tore his lips from Olivia's and kissed his way down the smooth column of her neck, her hands now tangling in his hair and her head falling back in ecstasy as he made his way to her shoulder and back across her clavicle. She whimpered and pulled his hair as he nipped lightly on one of the collarbones that had been exposed and teasing him all night long, wishing he could bite harder but not wanting to mark her.

She pulled his hair again, this time urging him upward so that their mouths could connect once more. Fitz grunted in response and nibbled on her full, red lips, repeatedly capturing her bottom one with his teeth and tugging it gently before releasing it. He never wanted to stop kissing her. A fresh, furious wave of desire washed over him as he felt an impish hand make its way down his chest, tracing over the muscles of his abdomen, undoubtedly on its way to the now full-blown erection that strained painfully against the confines of his pants.

His mouth never leaving hers, Fitz reached down and caught the misbehaving hand, stilling it just before it reached its intended destination. He couldn't let her touch him. If she touched him, he would lose control and end up taking her hard and fast in the front seat of his car. He couldn't do that to her. She deserved more than that.

"Olivia," he warned into her mouth as her fingers twitched and struggled to pull away.

"Take me home with you, Fitz," she murmured, her tongue swiping across his lips. He groaned. She was killing him.

"No."

"No?" she repeated the word like she'd never heard it before, and Fitz knew in that moment that no one had ever, _ever_ refused to take Olivia Davis to bed. Until now.

"No," Fitz sucked on her bottom lip one last time before releasing it with a wet 'pop,' using every ounce of self control he possessed to pull himself away from her. He opened his eyes to find that she was already looking at him, her brown orbs hot with a desire unlike anything he had ever seen. That look alone almost made him give in to her, "I want you, Livvy, _trust me_, I would like nothing more than to take you home with me. But you're tired and you've been drinking and you're angry with him…"

He trailed off and she just looked at him blankly.

"I just don't want you to make a stupid decision," he said gently, unable to stop himself from smoothing his thumb across her brow and down her cheek, "You deserve better than that. I don't want you to have any regrets."

"I don't have any regrets about last time," she informed him, and Fitz smiled faintly. That little piece of information was music to his ears.

"Me either…and I want us to keep it that way," he said, "At least take some time to think. There's no need for us to rush…If you think it through and you still want me the way that I want you, we know how to find each other now. We know each other's names and phone numbers and email addresses…I know where you _live_, now. There will be plenty of time for this."

"Okay," she said softly.

"Okay?" Fitz repeated, searching her eyes for any sign that they weren't on the same page. He found none.

"Yeah. You're right, Fitz."

They were both silent for a moment. Fitz looked at her, letting his eyes drift over her swollen lips and disheveled hair, his heart pounding madly in his chest. She blushed and looked back at him, her eyes still dark with arousal. She leaned forward slightly, and for a second Fitz thought that she might kiss him again. She didn't, but she wanted to. He could tell.

_That makes two of us._

"I…" she hesitated, "I should go."

"I know," Fitz said quietly, even though the very last thing he wanted to do was let her go home to her husband, a man who couldn't even get it together enough to properly celebrate her birthday. The thought made Fitz want to break things. His only consolation was the look of reluctance in her eyes. She didn't want to separate from him any more than he did.

Fitz reached out and caressed her cheek, and she leaned into his touch.

"Please call me if you get upset again, if you need to talk to someone…"

She nodded her agreement, but Fitz needed to hear her say it.

"I mean it, Livvy."

"I will," she said, "I promise."

"Okay…Goodnight, beautiful."

"Goodnight, Fitz," she murmured, but she didn't move. Fitz was overwhelmed with the urge to crush her body against his and possess her once more, to make her stay with him so he could show her exactly all of the things that he still wanted to do to her. He frowned.

"Get out of the car now, Livvy. Before I throw you in the backseat and have my way with you."

Her eyes darkened with lust, but she obeyed and opened the door. Before she got out she paused with one foot on the ground and winked deviously at him.

"Next time."

* * *

**AN: Well, I hope everyone enjoyed that! I know Fitz and Olivia did! **

**I do solemnly swear that I will update again as fast as humanly possible. **

**All reviews are loved and appreciated and cherished unconditionally. So thanx. **


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